


As The Manor Rests

by Cielsrighteye



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Caring Sebastian, Carriage Rides, Conflict, Curious Ciel, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, Drunk Ciel, Eavesdropping, Flashbacks, Flirting, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, KIND of canon, Kidnapping, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Possessive Real Ciel, Sleepy Ciel, Threats, Young Ciel Phantomhive, hunger, injuries, reassurance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielsrighteye/pseuds/Cielsrighteye
Summary: As the manor rests, whether that be in between cases or as a sombre night approaches, emotions creep up on those who stand static, trapped in contracts and empty promises.A collection of Kuroshitsuji drabbles. Mostly canon. From times when the Queen's bidding isn't the most important task, when weakness and memories encroach upon Earl and demon alike.





	1. Pocket Watches and Candelabras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Sebastian faces existential thoughts, Ciel panics over his imminent death and it is discovered that the most pressing thing is a stained rug...
> 
> Music: Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "They can keep me high,  
> Until I tear the walls,  
> Until I save your heart  
> And I take your soul...

I sat in my quarters, staring at the small window that hovered silently above me, I glared at the moon, the way it twisted in the air, complementing the clouds that danced past, getting caught in the web of a month.

Time, it plagued me. It was fickle and seemed to drain through my fingers like wet sand. I was trapped, stuck in the hourglass of eternity. Constantly jumping, decade to decade, century to century. I had seen the beginning and end of the world consecutively and I knew where I was going to end up next.

It did not make me eternal. No such thing existed. I wondered why I even bothered to stay, to cling onto the hope that one day I would hold some kind of purpose. I had seen the end of time and I knew that I would not have found any emotions, any humanity. Not a speck.

Nothing mattered in the end, that is why I kept up my dull charade. Dressing myself up and aiding people that would eventually melt into stardust at my feet, just grains in the hourglass I was trapped in.

A scream.

I sighed, slowly dragging myself away from an existential whirlpool as I pulled my chair out. It glided along the floor inelegantly and caused a headache to blossom. This was not what I needed right now.

Staring in the mirror, I checked my tie and slowly placed my tailcoat on my currently lithe form.

The constant, rapid heart rate coming from upstairs caused me to quicken my fussing and make my way up to my current master.

As I strolled through the corridors, too quick to be human, I channelled my thoughts, I wondered what I would be asked and what I would tell him. The regal colours seeped into the light of the candelabra that I held, I watched in dull interest as the wax slowly rolled down the side, pooling at the metal base.

I had knocked on this door more times than any other. "Master." I stated softly, "Master, are you quite alright?" I asked this as I turned the handle, wondering what would greet me on the other side.

"Go away." A sobbing voice seethed, as the dull light of the candle shone onto the room before me. I ignored his words, understanding that he was caught in his nightmare. I walked in, footsteps as measured as my voice until I reached his bed.

"Young Master,  _please,"_ I said, voice rolling over the sheets and hitting his vulnerable self, hitting the little cavity that gnawed at him, the tiny spot of youth still left in him.

He paused in his constant stuttering movements and buried himself further into the covers. I sighed for the second time and perched on the bed, placing the candelabra on his bedside cabinet.

I had studied this human for a while now. I had taken note of his wants and reactions. Granted, I wasn't the best at comfort but I had done it a few times in the past _._

Gently, my hand moved to his back, slipping under the covers and searching for the warmth he emitted.

I felt him tense beneath my palm before he relaxed a little. In all truth, I treated him like I would a cat. Although humans didn't exactly  _pur,_ I knew that they enjoyed the doting.

I felt the steady jog of his pulse under my fingertips and cherished the moment. He would never know the pain of an infinite amount of heartbeats. He would never understand the strain that living put on me. And I was glad.

"It's alright," I mumbled into the static air. It smelt of tears that fell salty from his eye and the vanilla soap he had bathed in earlier. It smelt of the ash that sat stoically in the fireplace and the dust that needed to be swept off of the window frames. I would do that tomorrow. "I am here now."

"What does it feel like?" He asked quietly, voice tripping on his conscience. I glanced at the clock. One forty-five in the morning, if we didn't hurry this up then he would be tired tomorrow.

"What does what feel like, my Lord?" I questioned tentatively. My hand moved higher, slowly tangling in his messy hair, it fell like feathers through my gloved fingertips, catching at various knots.

His breath was staggered as he thought about how to phrase what was plucking on his mind. "When you take my soul, what will it feel like?"

Oh.

My hand stilled and I felt his pulse spike. I closed my eyes briefly and  _thought._ Had his nightmare been plagued with images of me taking what was rightly his? Had he arrived at some delusional conclusion, believing that I would rip his soul from his body or feed on him like a vampire?

Very carefully, I pulled him up from his nest. He didn't attempt to resist, and when I looked at his eyes, I understood why. The waves of tears crashed over, pouring down his face.

I sat him so he was facing me, he stared at me as if I were a stranger, his emotions guarded even though he surely knew I could see his soul. His was like a second heart, constantly thrumming with pain and resentment. The purity was still there, though, tucked away in the Vena Cava of his being.

"I would not know, my Lord." I said slowly, words dragging behind me with guilt, "I have never met a person whose soul has been taken."

He huffed a weak laugh, finding humour in the darkest of topics, "that isn't what I asked." He stated and addressed me as if I was supposed to know how my previous contracts had felt as I tore out the life that they chose to give away. "Do you think that it will hurt?"

I glanced down at a small tea stain on the rug beneath us. Mr Crowley would need to be called in the following morning to get it sorted out. It was unsightly and the Lord's room was well overdue a makeover of sorts. It would be an ideal place to start.

"Yes," I said matter-of-factly. "But I promise that I shall attempt to make it as comfortable for you as possible," I promised dully. It did not matter, during the moment I would take his soul, we would no longer be bound, I would not be tethered to the promises I had made.

Although I would be free from his reigns, I would be no closer with my goal of chipping away at the hourglass.

"No." He said meekly. "No... I don't care about the pain, to be honest." This child was confusing.

"What is it you do care about, master?" I quizzed, hoping to wrap this small conversation up as soon as the time arose.

I saw him fidget with the duvet, thin fingers catching in the light. His eyes avoided me, glaring down at his lap as if his knees were the most interesting thing in the world. "When I'm... when I'm gone..." he began, fist clenching in the soft material. "Will I be remembered?"

Silently, I brought a hand up to raise his defiant chin. His eyes caught mine and I saw the cracks in his restraint, allowing a steady flow of innocence to seep through, "I can assure you, my Lord, those who caused you pain in this life will do well to for-"

"No." He cut in, pulling my hand away from his face and shuffling back into the headboard, digging his chin into his chest. "No, Sebastian. That's not what I meant." This child was as difficult to understand as time itself. He was mysterious when it came to what he actually wanted to know and I felt annoyance pool in my stomach. I swallowed it down like the acid it was and waited for him to elaborate. " _You._ Will  _you_ remember me?"

A tepid silence stretched on as he moved his piece to check. He knew that this question was not as simple as it seemed. I could not lie to him. Yet, if I did not lie to him, I doubt he would like the response. I mulled over my answer for a while and saw him grow impatient. "My life is a long one," I mumbled, looking to the door of his dressing chambers. "Many of my contracts bleed together."

"But you can remember some of them?" He asked and I nodded, wondering where this conversation was going. He nibbled on his lip and raised his covered knees to his chest, little feet poking out of the duvet. "I suppose I'll just have to make your time as a butler more memorable." He said lightly, clearly jesting.

I laughed, breathy and aloof. "Quite," I replied before sensing an end to the discussion. Slowly I got up from my position on the bed and picked up the candle once more.

My arm was grabbed before I could move much further, melted wax sloshing onto the already stained rug. "I'm not scared." He promised emptily, "I don't mind that you'll take my soul, you know." He whispered out to me. I wondered why he thought I cared, what delusional idea he had about me worrying about his opinion on the matter.

"I am glad to hear it." I grit and turned to face him, glancing at where his hand gripped onto my tailcoat. "Is there anything else?"

He breathed out through his mouth, heavily, shifting away from me and removing his hand. "No. There's nothing." He said softly. What a liar.

"Very well," I concluded and began to make my way out of the room. I nodded to him as I closed the door behind myself and saw as his face grew paler and the nightmares began to creep up on him again now that I had begun to leave.

 Although, instead of leaving as he thought, I seeped into the shadows and waited for him to fall into a torturous sleep and inevitably wake up again. At least this time I would not have to put my tailcoat back on before assisting him.

As time splashed past me, draining away, I stared at the stain on the rug, willing it away. I stared at the rings that glinted in the intimidating light of the moon. I stared at the human I had contracted, the way his face contorted in practised pain.

I wondered how he would have reacted if I told him the truth. How I would truly never forget him since he was the most complex and devastatingly enticing human I had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

And no amount of nightmares could change that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Seven devils all around you,  
> Seven devils in your house,  
> See I was dead when I woke up this morning,  
> I'll be dead before the day is done."


	2. The Strength He Lacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the littlest Phantomhive remembers the pain of his reality, Sebastian has to prevent an accident waiting to happen and it is discovered that dandelions cause more harm than good.
> 
> Music: Running With The Wolves by AURORA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My heart still beats and my skin still feels,  
> My lungs still breathe, my mind still fears.  
> But we're running out of time,  
> For the echos in my mind cry...

The littlest Phantomhive stared at the sun that filtered through his fingertips. He tensed and allowed the digits to relax, attempting to see the light through his opaque skin.

The wind rustled through his hair, catching on the grass that he was laying on, legs outstretched. His eyelashes fluttered when the sun was completely blocked from his view. "Ciel." He giggled as his brother grinned down at him. "Go away."

His older brother shook his head deviously and brought his nose down, giving the younger an Eskimo kiss. The latter snorted when the fine hairs tickled his neck and he swatted his sibling away.

"Stop it." He chided, dimples forming on the side of his cheeks. His brother was handsome as he rolled to the side, hair catching on dandelion clocks.

Ciel eventually sat up, addressing his brother. "You need to stop staring at the sun. You'll lose your eyesight." He stated before glancing up at the glowing ball himself.

The younger of two pouted and clambered to his feet inelegantly. "My eyesight is fine." He mumbled, "A few minutes looking at the sun doesn't make any difference."

Ciel snorted and punched his brother on his arm lightly. It jogged the little boy and he stumbled backwards, catching himself before he fell down.

"What was that for?" He questioned, glaring at his brother as he rubbed his arm.

Ciel furrowed his eyebrows. "It was a play punch. Daddy does it to me all the time." He explained. The mention of their father caused Ciel's brother to glare down at the grass, toeing the dead blades.

Ciel knew that his brother was weaker than most their age. He knew that he was sickly and his bones threatened to crush him in on himself. The child had a strong mind but a tiny body. Ciel knew that he should have known that acting so rough was not a good idea.

Ciel's eyes softened and the youngest yelped when stick-thin arms encircled the meek little thing and Ciel pushed his brother's head onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I know you've been stuck indoors for a while." He whispered. "I won't do that again."

The younger laughed and huffed at the hair that tickled his nose. "It's alright," came the dainty reply. He stared at the sun and the greens that flooded the manor's outskirts. His blue eyes darted to the forest beyond them, wondering what lay inside, encased in the flora.

"Daddy should be back in a moment," Ciel explained, pulling away. "He said that I might be able to start hunting with him soon!" He beamed. The littlest Phantomhive didn't have it in him to rain on his brother's parade. He knew that he shouldn't feel envious of his brave, smart, handsome brother. Ciel was kind and did not deserve the bad feelings that filtered through his sibling's mind.

"That sounds fun." He said dryly, still glaring at the forest before them. He laughed lightly when he saw all of the little dandelion seeds stuck in Ciel's hair and he began to pick them out carefully. "Hold still." He chuckled breathily and Ciel did as he was told.

After a few minutes of Ciel trying not to squirm, Vincent came riding in, merrily leading his horses toward his sons.

"Boys!" He called and the two snapped out of their conversation. "Are you ready to carry on going?" He asked as he slowed his mare down to a trot.

The boys nodded, cheeks red where they had been kissed by the sun. Vincent walked over and pinched Ciel's twin on the nose, causing him to squirm. Ciel looked on fondly as he thought about how his little brother was always trying to not act so little. Ciel noticed the way his back was always straightened and his hair was always combed so it made him look taller than he was. His brother was pretty and full of life. His heart was a sweet one, filled with only good intentions. 

He would not have to sell his soul to the underworld. He could live, blissfully ignorant to the cravings of rabid men and the avarice that would eventually lead to yet another Phantomhive's undoing.

Yet as Ciel saw how his brother's eyes shone and his mouth parted to let out a  _hello,_ Ciel realised that he wanted his brother to stay. He didn't think that there was any need for him to move to the country, he didn't think there was any need for him to marry and produce an heir. Ciel could be the man of the house. He could take care of his little brother and his strong wife. He could keep up with his father's position and still nurse his brother back to health when his body let him down.

_He_ would never let him down.

"Auntie Francis and Elizabeth shall be joining us. Isn't that great?" Vincent exclaimed, grabbing both of his son's hands and leading them over to where the horses huffed. "They'll be joining us for a picnic and the servants should be there already, setting up."

The younger brother grew confused when he realised that only two horses grazed before them. Ciel noticed this as well and tugged on his father's sleeve. "Daddy, why are there not three horses? Are you not coming?"

"Oh no," he laughed, bending over to face the Phantomhive heir properly, "I was going to have you both on one horse with me but you've been practising really hard and I think you can ride by yourself now."

Ciel clapped his hands and giggled, dancing over to where his colt stood, sniffing at the fresh green grass, turned crispy by the sun.

The littlest Phantomhive looked on. He knew not to say a bad word about his brother. His brother was brave. His brother was smart. He pushed the jealousy deep into his gut.

"Come on, sport, let's get you on my horse." Vincent smiled, unaware of the ugly emotions blooming in his son's soul.

The spare paused for a moment, removing his hand from his father's and turning away, a light blush dusting his embarrassed self. "I don't feel well, maybe I should go indoors." He mumbled to the floor.

Vincent and Ciel paused in their motions and the man sighed lightly, no venom lacing his tone, "Are you sure?" He asked and the youngest nodded, tight-lipped and impossibly red, guilty from lying. A large hand came up to the boy's forehead and Ciel peeped around from his horse.

His brother's body was weak, his heart was strong but his pride... that was unbreakable.

"You don't seem to have a temperature." Their father noted, brushing blueish locks away from the pretty boy's eyes.

"I think," The youngest stated, coughing pathetically. "I think that I have hay fever." He spewed, rubbing his throat to add to the effect.

Ciel stared on, wondering how his brother could lie so effortlessly. He was in awe, staring at the innocent way in which his brother held himself. Hell, even Ciel was beginning to believe his lie.

But Ciel knew that it was a lie because the youngest felt left out. He felt childish and too little to be seen with his big brother and his even bigger daddy.

A horrible thought twisted inside of Ciel. What if his brother left? What if he felt too small and weak to be around Ciel? Would he want to sit in the manor day in, day out, socialising needlessly? Would he feel uncomfortable living with or even nearby Ciel and Elizabeth? The thoughts invaded him, and he found himself bawling his fists.

Vincent sighed again, squatting so he could look into the bottomless pools of his son's irises. "Alright, I'll get Tanaka to put you to bed, then." He said softly, "I'm sure that Elizabeth will miss you."

The spare shook his head, "I don't think she'll notice." He admitted and stared off into the forest once more, wondering if he'd ever be allowed on a horse by himself.

•••

"My Lord?"

The Earl of Phantomhive grunted from his place on the grass as he slowly came back from his dream.

"My Lord, you really shouldn't lay in the sun so boldly, you shall burn." Sebastian chastised and carefully pulled his master up.

"Just put an umbrella down. Did you really feel the need to wake me?" He commented and hunched over himself, huffing when he felt pins and needles blossom in his left arm.

Sebastian smiled fondly and began to pat down his master's mussed hair. "I didn't bring one with us. I apologise." He responded lightly, kneeling down on the dried out grass. "I must say, though, I would recommend not wandering off as you did."

"The last time I checked, Sebastian, you were supposed to be tracking my whereabouts." The young man commented flippantly, waving his hand in the air.

Sebastian hummed his agreement and offered a hand to the teenager. The boy took it begrudgingly and was pulled up. "Might I ask what you were dreaming about?" The butler questioned and looked over his master.

"Nothing." The Phantomhive said, glaring back at the copper-red eyes of his hired demon.

Sebastian took the warning and dropped the subject. They paused for a moment, not knowing quite what to say next. The butler noticed how messy his master's hair was and chuckled before bringing his hands to the darkening locks. In a few years, they would be a black that would rival Sebastian's own.

"May I?" He asked and the twelve-year-old nodded. Slowly, Sebastian peeled the little seeds out of the soft strands. "You would do well not to lay on the dandelion clocks, my Lord. They are a devil to remove."

The young man stuttered to a halt, haunted by his dream as memories crashed through his muddied mind. He felt his butler's hands rake through his hair softly and wondered if that's how the previous heir felt as he tended to his hair, picking the seeds out like a good little brother. "Quite." Was all he responded with, not in the mood for a conversation and tensing at his naivety.

As the Earl leant on one leg and then the other, Sebastian mumbled, "Hold still." The littlest Phantomhive paused, remembering how that is what he had said to his brother... to Ciel. He felt an arm steady him as the butler continued to remove the persistent dandelion seeds. It made bile rise in his throat.

Looking up and into Sebastian's testy eyes he decided that the damned demon must have been fully aware of his dream and was purposefully digging up his past, just to taunt him.

"Do not mock me so." He commanded, ducking out of the way of the doting hands. He was even more irritated when he turned back to see his servant staring at him, confused and mouth slightly agape. "I want to ride alone for a while. You are to leave me be." He grumbled as he began to storm off.

Sebastian stood, alone, not quite sure what he had done this time. After a while he sighed and began to pack up the picnic that his master had not even  _tried_ to eat, glancing over at the boy as he clambered onto his horse. He struggled, as he always had, but the look he shot Sebastian stilled the servant's movements.

The horse snickered as he guided him into the forest. His eye raked past the bushes and the undergrowth, his resolve steeled and he stilled the tears that were pressing on his lid. He closed his eye, pressed a hand to his eyepatch and straightened his back.  _You need to stop staring at the sun. You'll lose your eyesight._

The boy galloped through the undergrowth, pushing the horse to its full potential. The twigs caught his cheek, making him squint.

His hand came up to his mouth as he realised he was bleeding. It hadn't hurt. He carried on, bolting down the man-made paths of trodden greenery.

He knew the outskirts inside out, he had made sure of that. He focused so hard on his horse riding, pushing himself to the limits of what his weak, weak body could handle. He didn't care for hunting or even riding but he knew that it was the only way he could show that he was not too small for the shoes he had been put into. To show that he could handle the role smeared onto him.

He yelped when a branch caught his leg but he pressed on. The warm sensation of blood bloomed in his leg and the dull ache caught him off guard. It stung as the wind whipped it, tearing it open and wandering inside. It made him bite his bleeding lip but he didn't stop.

Faster. Faster. He would not back down. He would not diminish his pride. He would  _not_ imply that his feet were too small and his shoulders were too slight. He would not.

It wasn't until he felt a presence next to him that he remembered where he was and  _who_ he was. " _Young Master._ " Came the grave voice of the darkness catching up with him. " _Please stop_."

Jolting out of his dream-like state, he pulled on the reigns. The horse whined in protest and threw him into the air. The thin summer air clogged his throat as a scream died on his tongue. He felt a burning of his contract symbol and arms engulfing him.

His body lurched forward and a thousand needles of adrenaline pierced his paling skin. His damaged eye bit back at him, causing him to hiss. His wine eye was drawn to the hand that cradled him, pushing him to move closer and feel the power of the man that  _he_ owned. Without thinking, the boy threw his arms around Sebastian's neck and drew his face towards the black, black hair. 

The arms slowly rocked him and he could feel the taunting of Sebastian's actions. As if Sebastian knew what he wanted, a gloved hand gently moved over his right eye, allowing a wave of comfort to hit him. It was gone as quick as it came but the ghost of it remained, hovering over his eyepatch. "You are growing reckless, young master, you will end up hurting yourself." Sebastian chastised lightly, curling his hand into the back of his master's suit and halting the horse.

The boy did not reply, he only drew closer. He imagined that it was his brother who was holding him, that he was pulling him closer and telling him the stories he loved so much. Sebastian felt the shudders run through his master. He understood that a nightmare had clearly wracked his brain yet when he had awoken there was not perspiration or screams of his name.

"Let's get you home, master." He cooed and brought his master's legs higher, hoisting him up. "I will need to treat these injuries," he noted and checked the rip in the flesh on his master's leg. "We do not want it to become infected."

"No." The Earl seethed, "no. I am not weak, Sebastian! I am not!" He spat through gritted teeth, "don't you dare take me back inside. This is an order!" He grabbed fistfuls of ink-black hair and dragged his butler's face so close their noses almost touched.

The rush of blood and something more demonic hurdled through his eye, catching on his contract symbol. Sebastian stilled. He breathed. The slate of his master's hair fluttered as he walked towards the horse once more. "I know you are not weak." He stated and sat the boy on the mare, "you do not have to prove anything to me." The child's leg was at eye height and a sickening swirl of regret settled in Sebastian's bones. "It is my fault you were injured and I wish to make things better."

Breathing heavily, Lord Phantomhive sulked, letting his head loll onto the mane of the horse, "nothing can make this better." He muttered.

"It shall not get better if you do not allow me to help you, my Lord," Sebastian said, carefully pulling up the tattered leg of his master's riding trousers. The child's breath caught as he stared at the blood that rolled down in lazy globs. "Now, let me take you inside. We can go riding again tomorrow if you would like." 

The boy thought for a minute. The lazy ache had turned into a burning wound that he wanted to rip at, his face felt battered and bruised and the acidic taste in his mouth needed to be washed away. 

He didn't want to be the innocent boy he had cast out but he played along like the good little master he was, _the good little brother_  he was. He knew that a broken bone would not prove anything. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he would prove himself worthy. "Yes." The twelve-year-old stated as Sebastian began to lead the horse back to the clearing they had inhibited. Staring curiously, the child watched as the demon collected up the food and brought the basket towards him. The man paused in front of his master before sliding a hand into the picnic basket once more.

He produced a small strawberry tart and handed it to the boy, "please eat this." He said softly, "I believe that you have not had anything since breakfast." 

Sebastian walked in silence as the Earl sat quietly on the horse, injured leg hanging uselessly by his side. He rubbed his cheek and flinched when he saw red, the blood had dried on his lip and his small tongue went out to lick at the wound, he winced as the cut was cleaned but a moment later he continued to eat the lukewarm dessert. 

"We shall arise early tomorrow. I wish to ride before it gets too hot. As you said, it would not be becoming for me to burn." He uttered, knowing that his servant would be able to hear him, "I wish to ride on the fastest of the horses. I believe that is Sparrow, correct?"

"You would be right in saying that, my Lord." Sebastian agreed, clenching onto the reigns harder. "And what of your injuries?"

The child tutted, "It is your job to look after me, is it not? And anyway, you shall be riding too."

"My Lord?" 

"Do not look so surprised." He reproved, "you have ridden with me before. It shall just mean that you can assure my safety."

"So you are planning to continue your deranged actions?" The butler asked innocently enough, but when he turned to regard his master, his eyes were shining a terrifying garnet. When the younger nodded adamantly he just smiled, "You do not wish to make my job an easy one, do you?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

The child wanted to ride. He wanted to push himself to the brink of collapsing, he wanted to make himself hurt and ache and be ripped to shreds. As if he was trying to prove something. As if he thought that showing he was able to ride and hunt now could bring back his father and his brother. As if he was showing that he deserved to be that brave, smart, handsome boy he had promised to be.

As if his name was Ciel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...There's blood on your lies,  
> Disguise open wide,  
> There is nowhere for you to hide,  
> The hunter's moon is shining."


	3. A Burnt Child Dreads The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Sebastian ignores his new master's calls, Ciel decides to wander to the servant's quarters and it is discovered that the previous Earl's true nature is much more sinister than expected...
> 
> Music: Special Death by Mirah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A terrible mistake was made,  
> The weight would break the backs of ten strong horses tried to save,  
> The castle in the fray...

Numbers filtered through his head like sugar as he read through an old business document from the previous Earl's finances.

"Strange." The demon hummed to himself as the balance jumped around on the paper. "Very strange indeed."

He paused, glancing over at another pile of documents. Cautiously, he pulled the reports out, flicking through quicker than any human could. He paused when he felt the thrum of a startled heartbeat through his contract symbol.

He did not move. Instead, his gaze landed on a particular document that seemed more pressing than his new master's bad dream. A smile cracked on his lips as he aligned the two sheets.

The demon leant back on his chair, sighing and feeling all too proud of himself. His master may not appreciate his cooking but even  _he_ could appreciate this.

A list of scandals, murders and grim cases sat before him. And the dates they were solved were scribbled out in a harsh black ink that carved its way into the paper.

Sebastian struggled to block out the loudness and ferocity of the heartbeat above him, it was headache-inducing, but he knew that his master would be fine if left alone.

The child had just spent a month in hell, one more night wouldn't make any difference.

However, Sebastian had never left him to suffer in silence, even if his plastic comfort was returned with bitter sobs and sour orders, the ten-year-old had never experienced a nightmare without the demon by his side.

Shaking his head, said demon continued to connect the dots, mapping out a scheme in his head. It interested him, making his foot tap out a tune, its name long forgotten.

The dates slowly bled into a picture that he couldn't ignore. What he also couldn't ignore were the footsteps resonating above him. They were soft, little feet tapping on a hardwood floor.

Sebastian huffed, it was cold out tonight. His little master would catch a chill if he continued his wandering. But the demon allowed him to resume, the sound of tender footsteps calming him in a way he couldn't describe.

The mouse-like child continued his wandering as Sebastian began to make short, sharp notes, stating the matters which he wished to speak to his master, and possibly Tanaka, about.

However, as the pattering of pale feet grew closer, Sebastian stopped his writing and froze. His arm looped its way around his chair and he turned to face his unopened door.

Ciel was shivering. Even though his nightshirt was long, the tremors wracked his weakened body. Softly he stepped further and further down. He danced away from the shadows as they chased him and the pale light from his servant's room led the way.

The tears had dried but he could feel them, torn into his cheeks as they caught on the light that he was drawn to, like a moth.

He didn't knock.

"Sebastian." He whispered instead, "Sebastian, are you awake?" His hand shook as he twisted the copper door handle and opened the door.

Sebastian sighed when he cast his eyes on the boy. "Master. You shouldn't be up at this time. It is February, and therefore cold."

Ciel glanced at his feet, embarrassed and docile. "I'm sorry." He mumbled out, "I just... you never came and I..." Tiny knees clacked together as the door was shut.

The young boy leant on the doorframe as if it had become part of him, cowering away from the darkness that was his butler. Sebastian assessed him, breathing in his distinctive scent. Ciel was chilled but Sebastian could let his master stay up for a while longer.

After a few stagnant moments, Sebastian turned back to his note-taking. He felt the eyes on his head but he pretended he didn't, glaring at the words as they began to swirl on the page.

"Do you ever sleep?" Ciel asked quietly as he attempted to take a step forward.

Sebastian reread the same sentence twice before answering. "No." The finality in his tone caused his master's heartbeat to spike. Sebastian paused for a second and realised that his harsh tone would only push his master away, "no." He said again, without judgement or his usual condescending lilt, "demons need no sleep."

Ciel nodded slowly before sheepishly stepping forward. "I wish I didn't have to sleep." He breathed, more to himself than his butler. The demon laughed anyway, almost as quiet as his master's words.

Sensing an end to their clipped conversation, Sebastian began writing once more. His eyebrows furrowed as the dates became more and more interesting. He was so caught up in his work that he didn't notice a petite hand coming down on his desk.

A mop of messy blue-black hair came into view along with curious azure and aubergine eyes. "What is it that you're doing?" The child asked, curling to face his caregiver.

Sebastian steadied him with his hand, aware of the ink pot not ten centimetres away. "I'm working something out." He said stupidly, crease in his eyebrows.

"Well, what is it?" Ciel questioned, the sleep dripping away from him in tired globs. Sebastian recognised the irritated demeanour as that of his charge, the one who straightened his back and spoke like each word was a chore. Silently, Sebastian hoped to see the much more vulnerable side for a while longer.

With that thought in mind, he allowed himself to emit a warming presence, causing the child to stay as sleepy as possible. "You needn't worry about it, for now, my Lord. Let us get you back to bed."

"No," Ciel said defiantly, moving away from the demon's arm. "I want to know what you're doing." He complained, staring down at the pages, trying to make sense of the jotted words.

Sebastian breathed through his nose and attempted not to strangle the boy. Instead, a hand came out again and clasped onto the wrist of his contractee, pulling him closer to the chair.

Ciel stumbled a little, catching himself on the desk but a complaint died on his tongue as he stared down at the sheets. "Come on, master. It is late. You must retire now." Sebastian murmured silkily, knowing exactly which voices pleased his little Lord.

The child still did not stir, his eyes fixated on the digits and numbers. Sebastian looked over the boy's shoulder and moved his hand to the small of his back, attempting to divert his attention.

"Do not worry about this right now, my Lord. It will just cause you more-"

"My father was being paid off by Scotland Yard," Ciel stated suddenly. Sebastian paused, his hand clenching around the twig of a wrist too harshly. The boy did not complain, his eyes flicking up and down the page.

"However did you figure that out?" Sebastian queried, it had taken the demon much, much longer.

Lithe fingers pointed at the sheets on the desk. "Here." Ciel began, his nail dragged up and matched a crime to a jump in the balance. The demon moved closer, staring into the crisp white of the paper. "Around three days after each of these crimes were solved, the Phantomhive family's earnings had a mass increase. There is no sign that there is a set payment from anyone and," a small yawn escaped his lips, "and all of these murders happen so randomly, it cannot be a coincidence."

"I believe," Sebastian began, voice hot in the warming room, "that coincidences do not exist."

Ciel nodded sharply, hands still pressed to the desk. "That means that someone was paying my predecessor in exchange for him solving these little puzzles. So," another yawn and heavy tears broke through, weighing the child's sleepy eyes down. "It must be..."

"It must be Scotland Yard." Sebastian cut in, "since he had been only working cases assigned to them," Sebastian concluded, already attempting to lift his master up. The boy shook his head adamantly, trying to push away from the comforting arms. " _My Lord."_ Sebastian said testily, "I do not wish for you to catch another fever. It is bad enough that you are awake at this hour, let alone in the servant's quarters where it is cold." The demon chastised, presenting how utterly house trained he had grown to be in the month he had been serving the boy.

"I don't want to go back upstairs. Just let me stay for a while longer." Ciel argued, stepping backwards and falling onto the bed.

Sebastian grimaced at the creases that marred the duvet but chose to ignore them momentarily, "why do you not wish to go upstairs?" He asked instead, stepping closer to where the boy was sat.

Ciel's hands flexed on the duvet, curling into the chilled material. A small yawn ran past his lips and he stilled the noise with the clamping of his jaw.

"My Lord." Sebastian tried again, coming even closer and attempting to catch his master's eyes. They dodged his gaze desperately, suggesting embarrassment and a reluctance to answer. "Is there something the matter?" He asked and got down on one knee in front of his charge.

Ciel shrivelled back, moving away from the hauntingly comforting presence of his servant. "It's nothing. I just would prefer to stay here for a while." Ciel argued.

They were still for a moment, neither knowing what to do next. It had been like this since their first meeting, a game of chess, constantly moving into check and both refusing to back down. Their pawns had been disregarded and they were the only two left on the board, tangoing their way around each other. Refusing to admit that without the other, they would not exist.

Slowly, anxious eyes tracked their way up past the demon's chest, to his bare arms and tall neck. Ciel paused at his Adam's apple, wondering if he would ever grow to emit such masculinity, before he assessed the downward turn of the man's lips, showing displeasure that made Ciel more unsettled than anything else. The servant's nose was scrutinised next, delicate and small, probably the most feminine part of his facade. Then, aqua met crimson, filled to the brim with foreign blood and second-hand anguish.

Ciel wondered morbidly if he would be stored in his butler's eyes, adding to the caramel of their sticky-sweet gaze. 

The child swallowed thickly, instincts coursing through him, warning him against saying what he longed to say. He knew that it would make him weak, that Sebastian would be able to win their game of chess and he would be cast off of the board.

"I'm feeling lonely tonight." He said sombrely, childish impulses causing his self-respect to diminish. "I miss my parents... and... and  _him."_ He admitted, too scared to look away. Ciel felt himself being scrutinised, just as he had done to his servant before. The demon was assessing him, discovering whether he was worthy of a reply.

His breath staggered as he felt warm hands enveloping his own. Sebastian's smile was clearly staged, it did not reach the soul-pit of his eyes but the child accepted it, grabbed onto the expression as if it was his last hope of survival. "You do not need to fear loneliness any longer, my Lord," Sebastian promised sweetly, trapping Ciel in the tenacity of his fudge eyes. They caught his sweet tooth and tempted him like the chocolate he was oh-so addicted to. "I shall be here with you, until the very end."

Ciel blinked stupidly, feeling betrayed and angry at his demon and then himself. He pulled his hands away and edged further up the bed, pushing away any thoughts of endearment that had just captured him, attempting to remove their strangling hold. The end was not comforting, the  _end_ was emotionless, the end was were things stopped, where darkness wound its fingers around the boy. The end was not where he wanted loneliness to begin.

Sebastian grew confused, his thoughts ran through his mind as he attempted to understand where he had tripped up, where his master had managed to catch him again.

Instead of delving deeper into the issue, he stood up once more and stared down at the tiny child that curled himself into the corner of the room. No one could have guessed that he was the same boy that sought revenge, clawing and biting at everything that stood in his way. No, his bones could be snapped like candy sticks but his heart was tough. That was why Sebastian existed.

He had agreed to protect the heart and mind and soul of such a delicate little thing since his own body was not capable of it.

It was not his responsibility to protect his master's opinions and thoughts, he claimed to have that under control. As he promised himself this, Sebastian returned to his desk, deciding to ignore the self-righteous Lord.

He settled into place and began to ease back into his investigation. The numbers flickered up, intriguing him more and more. The ink continued to bleed into the paper as he discovered the depth of what his master had been thrown into. His master would surely work in close quarters with the Queen, aiding with her dastardly plans and completing tasks too grim to utter.

The demon wondered if his master would reach an age where he would be allowed to partake in these schemes and become what the child had called the 'Queen's guard dog'.

Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed as the shivering on the bed became more noticeable. He knew that his master should not have been allowed to stay downstairs, the basement had not been warmed since the pair had returned as they were the only two in the whole manor. It was ironic, the demon thought, that the last time heat would have touched the lowest floor of the manor was through the raging fires, gobbling up all of the residents inside. Two months had passed since then, yet Ciel Phantomhive was still trapped in the inferno of a child's memory. Yes, it would fade and wilt but the fire was so deeply rooted in him it would forever be a thorn in his side.  _A burnt child dreads the fire._

He turned back, eyes softening as he saw how Ciel glanced around the room, lips turning blue as he attempted to hide the chill that had invaded his bones. Those weak bones that could be snapped and broken and cracked so easily. Sebastian wondered what pretty noises would leave those icy lips if he split the child's spine, he wondered if his eyes would drown in misery and if his hands would spasm at his sides as he stared at the only person he could rely on. The one who would mark the end of his tragic composition. The one who would steal the sweetness from his candy bones and the life from his vanilla soul.

Shaking his head, the demon pushed the thoughts out of his mind, they caused his eyelids to lower and his mouth to part. The man stepped over to where his master sat and without a word, he pulled him to his feet.

The boy attempted to protest but Sebastian dragged him closer and silenced him with a soft 'shh'. As kindly as he could, the old demon pulled up the otherwise untouched duvet and placed it on his charge's shoulders. Ciel grew confused, watching with morbid curiosity as his pet took care of him.

His eyes wandered back to each masculine part of Sebastian's body, and then to his feminine nose, wondering if it was an intentional choice or not.

Ciel sighed when Sebastian patted him on the head and sat him back down against the harsh metal headboard. "I am sorry that I am not a suitable person to look after you." Sebastian murmured, bringing back the melted sugar to his gaze. "I am afraid I am not well equipped to dealing with lonely children." He cut off any irate remarks before they could spew from his master's lips. "When Tanaka returns, he can put you to bed if you would like."

The boy nibbled on his lip and settled down, more than relieved that he would not, in fact, have to return to his bedroom, "it's not that." Ciel whispered, "I think that I prefer you tending to me. You never came is all." He admitted and brought his hands into the covers with him.

"Oh?" Sebastian mocked, wondering how far he could push his master while he was in a state such as this. "I believed that you thought I was an awful excuse for a demon. A bad butler. An inadequate tutor. A gullible pet. A-"

"Alright," Ciel laughed softly, "Alright, I get it." His eyes closed and he breathed, unable to form the proper words in his head.  _If only Sebastian could know what_ _he_ _was thinking._ Maybe he did. "You're not  _bad_ at it... any of it...sometimes I just... forget it." He muttered and turned away.

"I shall go back to my work," Sebastian explained, "when you feel ready to return to your room, just let me know." He said, knowing full well that the child would not tell him at all.

"Alright." Ciel murmured as he sank into the pillows, "you are a bad cook, though." He added as an afterthought and his knees rubbed together in an attempt to get warm. Sebastian returned to his post which he had been disturbed from too many times. An almost fond smile graced his face as he repeated the sentences his master had just said amidst all of his confusion and fatigue. He too relaxed, listening to the soft breaths and sounds coming from Ciel.

He decided that he rather liked this side of his master, it made him seem like even more of an oxymoron. Who he was during the day was the antithesis of the meek little child that showed his face as the moon dawned on the estate.

The candle waned as Sebastian continued peeling back the facade of his master's father. It was an ugly truth. Ciel would be living it soon, he already had. He was tangled in the thorns of destiny and Sebastian taunted him from his place on the petals, calling out to him and tempting him closer. Knowing that with every attempt the boy made to escape, he would be cut by the thorns, he would bleed out and beg and plead.

And Sebastian would always be there.

The eyes on the back of his head slowly drifted away as Sebastian gathered an idea of who was behind the Phantomhive fire. Glancing behind his back to where his charge's eyes lay closed and his feet curled in on themselves, Sebastian decided that he would keep the truth of his parents' murderers, his torturers and his pathetic little death day planners far away from his master. Just for now.

He wished to see what would become of this contract.

Once Ciel had fallen asleep in his servant's bed, Sebastian settled him down, tucking the corners in so that he would not catch a chill. He stared at the cherubic features of the soon-to-be Earl. His heart beat stronger as the connection of their contract thrummed silently.

A small smile and a sigh left the ten-year-old as he settled into the warmth of their covenant. "You shall never be alone," Sebastian promised again as he snuffed out the dampened light in the room and sat next to the boy.

Hesitant hands sought out where Ciel's arm had hung off of the side of the small bed. Sebastian smiled distantly and pulled the cover over the pale, delicate arm. It sat in the palm of his hand, so vulnerable and ready to break, snap like the candy stick it was. Sebastian found that he no longer wanted to crush the boy, even if he was laying there, so content and calm.

"Even after the end." He added, swearing on the moon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...If you knew, that I could take the pain,  
> Inflicted at the battle with faithful arrows,  
> You might get back in the saddle,  
> But it's a special death you saved, for me."


	4. The Colour Of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel is forced to endure a carriage ride with his betrothed, Sebastian flatters a certain Midford servant and it is discovered that the Lord Phantomhive does not suit light purple...
> 
> Music: Kill Of The Night by Gin Wigmore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now you're mine, but what do I do with you boy?  
> I'll take your heart, to kick around as a toy,  
> The danger is, I'm dangerous and I might just tear you apart...

Ciel Phantomhive hated travelling.

He hated travelling for business, he hated travelling for cases and he especially hated travelling for pleasure.

"Oh, look! Did you see that dear, Ciel? Did you?" The blonde girl beamed as she smiled out at the rolling fields, running alongside the carriage.

"Yes. I saw the dear." Ciel said gravely, his voice not moving a semitone up or down. Sebastian nudged him in warning and the boy glared up towards the face of his hired help.

'That wasn't nice.' The butler mouthed to his master who just tutted and turned back to the window.

Paula giggled from her corner of the carriage. The other passengers all turned to regard her, mouth clamping shut as a pretty, pink blush dusted her cheeks.

Sebastian smiled back politely and her embarrassed flush deepened. "Whatever is the matter, Paula?" Elizabeth queried as she fiddled with her dress.

Ciel nudged Sebastian back as he turned to look out of the window again, warning him against anything  _mischievous_ that the demon may have come up with. "There's another dear," Ciel muttered out, attempting to divert the attention from the Midford servant.

Elizabeth was caught instantly, she gazed in awe at the doe as it strutted through the undergrowth, pausing to graze on the foliage nearby. Her gloved hands pressed up against the window and her large skirt pushed further into Ciel. He inwardly groaned and attempted to lean back into the carriage seat. He didn't understand why such small creatures needed such large outfits. Then again, he wasn't one to talk.

Sebastian noticed how his master was drowning in silk, the tulip-purple of the teenagers' matching outfits melting together. It didn't suit him, he would be better acquainted with a deep, aubergine purple. A ruthless purple, representing passion and fury. Not a pale lilac, worn by shallow beings, dressing up to please those around them. No, lavender was not the colour for his master.

But dark, glutinous colours made him look delectable. His eyes. The contrast between wine and navy, the contrast  _they_ had with the copper of Sebastian's own irises. Sebastian decided he had chosen the perfect colour for their covenant. It melded with his skin, it tore its way into his master's eye. It connected them in a way too deep and meaningful to contemplate, it proved that they were two parts of one whole.

Together, they formed a coin. The proud Earl would be 'heads', of course. Attracting, tempting,  _intriguing_ even the most innocent of men and leading them down the dark road he trod. Sebastian had no doubt he could single-handedly corrupt a soul. Make it bleed the same wine as his dangerously beautiful eye.

Sebastian, however, would be considered tails. The manifestation of his Lord's past and how he conquered even death itself. He was the very thing that pushed him together yet would eventually pull him apart. He kept him steadfast yet aimed to shake him to his core. He was the sin that whispered horrific truths and sugar-sweet lies into Ciel's ear.

They completed one another.

Their contract symbol thrummed as Sebastian continued his assessment of Ciel and the boy looked at him, crease in his eyebrows. Sebastian just met his eyes, positive that they were on the verge of going an abstruse, sonorous red.

He closed them shortly, slowing his breathing and correcting the mistakes in his facade.

He felt a thin finger prod at his hand, 'what's the matter with you?' Ciel questioned through their own private language, consisting of delicate taps and subtle strokes, unknowingly brushing the contract seal and making Sebastian silently shiver.

Sebastian's eyes cracked open again and he placed his hand atop his charge's, 'nothing at all.' He lied.

'Stop acting so weird or someone's going to see something.' Ciel instructed, removing his hand and folding his arms to stop any reply from arriving.

Taking note, Sebastian turned to face the woman in front of him, "I must say, Paula, the outfits you and your mistress chose for herself and my master are wonderful. I may have to come to you for advice on these things." Another lie, this one his master definitely picked up on. Oh well, it would only lead to a telling off from the disagreeable young man and anyway, the red that flared up on Paula's cheeks was mildly entertaining.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm not the one you should be congratulating, it was Nina that-"

"Nonsense." Sebastian laughed, coating his plastic emotions with felt and soft linen. "I believe that you have an eye for designing."

The two teenagers stared at the pair, mouths slightly agape. Identical expressions to go with identical outfits, a match made in heaven. It was Lizzy who pierced the silence first with a giggle and a clap of her hands. "I  _knew_ you two would get along splendidly. Isn't it wonderful, Ciel?" She beamed, grabbing onto both Sebastian and Paula's hands.

Ciel clicked his tongue and averted his gaze, putting on an air of nonchalance as thin as his patience and a wicked smile slapped its way onto Sebastian's face.

He turned to face Elizabeth and closed his eyes, his evil grin melting into something more human, more  _pleasant._ "I believe that Paula and I have always gotten along  _just fine_." He said lightly, voice trailing behind him.

If asked, Paula would have struggled to form a coherent sentence. Her tongue was thick in her mouth and her cheeks felt as if they had been stained rose. She stared at the man as he regarded her mistress and something sinful pooled in her gut.

It was stupid, she told herself. He had said nothing that should even hint that he had taken an interest in her. She was acting like a fool. Even worse than that, a  _lovesick_ fool.

Ciel hadn't looked up from his position staring at the gravel as it ran past, cheek in hand as it slowly pushed his face up.

He hated travelling.

•••

Ciel refused to meet his butler's eyes when they arrived at the lodgings. Sebastian carried the various suitcases in diligently and began his menial task of remaking the bed with fresh sheets. His master was always very funny about hygiene.

"Are you going to continue this silence for much longer, my Lord?" He asked and waited for the boy to turn around. He never did.

Instead, Ciel removed a book from his hand-held luggage and found a small armchair to perch in, flicking carelessly to where he had dog-eared the page.

Sebastian sighed as a flurry of sweet scents filled the room, the covers Sebastian had packed had retained their freshness. They still did not block the scent of his master's brooding as the little lord brought his legs up so they barred him from any type of conversation. "Do you require a drink?"

No answer.

"Perhaps something to eat? I hear they have a wonderful restaurant down the road, we could arrange a meal with Lady Elizabeth. I believe they serve wonderful roast pork, perhaps it would give me some inspiration for new dishes to serve. What do you think, my Lord?" Still no answer. "I also received a telegram from your Aunt. Lord and Lady Midford shall be arriving at approximately seven o'clock this eve, along with your cousin, Master Edward. Would you like me to prepare some wine for when they arrive?" Still nothing. Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows, it was not in his master's nature to allow him to babble on about goodness-knows-what for long.

For a fleeting moment, Sebastian wondered if his master had simply lost his hearing. But when the butler intentionally slammed the wardrobe door shut, the slight jolt in his master's body made him stand corrected. Not deaf, just moody.

Sebastian stood still, like an island in a sea of dark oak. He did not know quite what to do. He had no tasks to complete, no servants to shout at, no master willing to talk. So he stood. He stared.

He watched as the pages rustled with every rise and fall of the faint heart that beat bellow them. His eyes catching on the delicious flood of life that sailed through his master's veins. Warm, crimson blood that was begging to be spilt and splashed and savoured. Sebastian had an urge to paint a picture on the blank canvas of his master's pale skin. No, he knew better than that. He knew to wait.

How dare his lord tempt him so? How dare his cheeks be filled with blood, rushing to the surface in order to cool himself? Did he not realise what he was doing as his lips parted in concentration and his legs spread just a little wider to compensate for the turning of a page?

The only problem was that purple. The frothy white-lavender that swam up the length of his body and pooled at his neck. It needed to be darkened, stained, ripped away, completely forgotten. It encased such a beautiful soul, how dare such a watered-down colour ruin his master?

Sebastian witnessed the blood rise higher in his master's cheeks, coming to the surface to breathe. He didn't realise it was a blush until he was impaled by a look from his embarrassed master. Ciel's eye regarded him sceptically and the book was lowered.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" Ciel questioned, dropping his legs and sitting up straight.

Sebastian's voice caught in his throat, gravel scraping his neck as he attempted to snap out of his daze. "Stare at you like what, my Lord?"

"Like..." Ciel spluttered, sinking further back into the chair but still sitting impossibly straight. "Like some... hound?" He accused, "it's unseemly." He added as an afterthought.

Sebastian stood stoically, expression unreadable, as always. He regarded his master with a strange look, a tilt in his eyebrow and an eery glow in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but a moment later it clamped shut as Paula's had, and his lips stretched into a twisted smile - he stepped forward boldly - forgetting the sheets and the bags and the anger brewing inside his master.

_My Lord, how foolish of you, to assume that I am not the same hound that came to you on that fateful night._

With every step he took, Ciel grew more and more curious. Sebastian wondered if this was the reaction his master was hoping for, he had always been such a Prima Dona, after all.

_I still anticipate the flavour of your soul on my tongue with every passing day, nothing has changed._

_My goal is still to make you beg for the gentle release of death in that final hour. You shall not want anything more than for me to claim your soul._

_We shall truly become one, my Lord. The coin melts, and so shall our contract but we remain, melded together like wrought iron._

His hands settled on the arms of the chair, either side of his charge, and he moved closer, sensing the jolt of fear and excitement that rushed down his master's spine.

_Our roles will reverse, I will control you and become everything you dreamt of and feared._

_Do not worry, my young master, it shall not be quick and without rewards. I will take your hand one last time as we dance to the composition I wrote, just for you._

_The promises I made on that night and ever since shall swirl around you, you struggle in the grips of that thorn bush, you need to remember that I shall set you free. Never has it been my aim to hurt you, humans have done that well enough. I simply wish to explore what makes you, you._

Ciel tilted his head back, eye blank and hollow as he glared at his demon, overstepping boundaries he rarely approached.

_Everything confuses and enlightens you, your short life reflects your soul. Yet as well, I reflect your soul. You fear but accept death. You crave me and I push you away. You want to follow me while I tell you to run for your life. I see the way that you look at me, my Lord._

_Still, I will remain constant. The only thing you can rely on in this piteous life of yours. Your pride crumbles, your family leaves, your servants betray you. But I stay._

Slowly, Sebastian's head shifted towards his master's neck, resolve slipping like silk as he continued to stare, the inferno of his gaze willing the lavender of his master's jacket to combust.

He held himself there for a moment, savouring the pause in his master's breathing as he waited for everything and nothing to happen.

_So yes, regard me as your hound for it is so... I am your foolish protector, your stalwart servant, your pawn and knight and rook._

_I wish to say these things whenever you glare at me, forcing me to swallow the wine of your marred eye, surely you know I cannot drink human beverages, my Lord? How cruel you are to me._

_I stand and watch you grow and twist and become everything I hoped you would. You accuse me of these things and I know I must not lie, so I say:_

"I must admit, my Lord, seeing my  _prey_ ignore me so boldly does ignite the more  _wolffish_ side of my nature." His lips curled up as his master waded through treacle-thick words. "Do not fear me, though, for I will not gobble you up, just yet." He whispered smoothly, breath on his master's neck. He drew back, the aggravated sigh that left his master did not go unnoticed but Sebastian turned around to needlessly flatten the sheets anyway.

"You're awfully mischievous today, Sebastian," Ciel commented, albeit breathlessly, and stood up from his place on the musty red armchair. "Perhaps I should send you home."

Sebastian decided not to grace his master with a reply. Instead, he smiled unsettlingly and began to step over to the door.

The handle was twisted and a multitude of frills and silk came tumbling into the room when the door was opened. A squeal left Elizabeth's mouth as her eavesdropping was uncovered. "I'm sorry!" She called before her fiancé had even a moment to react. "I wasn't listening, I swear! Paula was just busy unpacking and I wanted to spend some time with you." She stuttered out, clutching onto the anchor of her cousin.

The Earl grunted before tearing his gaze past Sebastian and onto the blonde that tumbled over his suit. "Do not worry, Lizzy." He assured, "I believe you. Just... please stop pulling, the threads will come loose." He huffed, breathing staggered as he took a step back.

"I was just about to knock! Oh lord, you must think I'm an  _awful_ person now. Ciel, I'm so sorry." She babbled unintelligibly and held fast onto a black-gloved hand.

Ciel just smiled, emotions simmering beneath his jaw. "I do not think that. I could never think that." He said smoothly, softening out the kinks in his suit. "We accused you of no such thing,  _did we,_ Sebastian." He said and turned to face the demon.

Sebastian's fake smile was so much sweeter than that of his Lord's, it held emotion that was not there like an Easter egg one assumed was filled with cream. Instead, a hollow shell would greet the devourer.

Ciel wondered if he could crack Sebastian's shell.

"Of course not," Sebastian said, sinfully sweet. A soft bow came next, dusting the lie with sugar.

Elizabeth made an unsure noise but nodded her head all the same. "Alright." She hummed, "Okay, as long as you know that I didn't hear anything." Her head turned from butler to Earl and when she sensed no disdain, her fears were tucked away for later and a sweet smile blossomed on her lightly glossed lips. "I wondered if we could go on a picnic, the weather is delightful and apparently this is the perfect time of the year to go to the river."

Ciel nodded slowly, "Alright. Sebastian, prepare a picnic and follow us to the carriages. I expect you can do that in fifteen minutes?"

"Of course, my Lord," Sebastian said, the sardonic tone not lost on his master.

Elizabeth left abruptly, squealing something about retrieving her walking boots. Ciel began to follow her but as he walked past his demon, he tugged on his tie and brought him down to eye level. To his delight, the butler blinked stupidly at the impromptu move.

"Behave yourself, do you hear me? Stay away from Paula. Do not forget who you belong to, mutt." He smirked before pushing Sebastian away and straightening himself out.

As he stepped out of the door a small chuckle came from inside. "Jealousy is such a pretty colour on you, my Lord."

Ciel groaned as he slammed the door in his butler's face, cutting the tension and the blush that had surely flared upon his cheeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm gonna catch you  
> I'm gonna get you, get you,  
> I want to taste the way that you bleed  
> You're my kill of the night..."


	5. Absinthe-Minded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel tries his hand at drinking, Sebastian is nowhere to be seen and it is discovered that the Earl should stick to reading Sherlock Holmes.
> 
> Music: Absinthe by IDK HOW (BUT THEY FOUND ME)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bring to me your sons and daughters,  
> 'Cause Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder...

I'm not one for parties, or dancing, or drinking. I only attend balls when necessary and I stay far away from useless chatter.

Some would call it isolation, I call it peace. However, it was this mindset that hauled me into such a horrid predicament on one Thursday eve, and it all started with an argument. A silly argument, at that.

"I refuse."

"My Lord, I think it would-"

"No, I do not need to hear it! There is no reason for me to go out tonight!" I argued, casting a haughty look right at him.

He was on the verge of smiling,  _well, I'm glad I amuse you so._ "On the contrary, master, I have caught wind that a certain lady Elizabeth will be in attendance. You know how much she misses you these days." He pressed, his words grating on me.

I clicked my tongue, trying to prove something. "She shall be fine alone. I'm sure that her brother will be there to escort her. Besides, I don't much fancy having another run-in with that boy." I floated towards the door, tempted to completely ignore my servant.

"The young Lord should not speak about his cousins in such a way. They both enjoy your company and you have not attended any social events in these past three months." He explained tentatively, much to my chagrin. 'Caring' did not suit my butler.

"If you hadn't noticed, Sebastian, I was busy dying in Germany!" I spat out, charging all of the hatred his previous betrayal had caused to bubble up in my gut.

He did not flinch, nor recoil. "I believe, however, that you have not told them this. Would you like me to inform them of your unfortunate incident with the mustard gas?"

"Don't you dare demon. You should know well enough by now that I do not tolerate blackmail, especially from you." I hissed out, the taste of betrayal sitting heavily on my tongue.  _You were going to eat me._

"I apologise, my Lord. I shall drop the subject and I will not speak to the Lady Elizabeth or Master Edward about your... illness in Germany." He said calmly, clearly just to appease his master.

"I should expect not. Now, leave me alone for the night. I will call you when I am ready to be taken to bed, until then, I shall be in the library, reading."

"Of course you will."

"Pardon?" I hissed out, eyes locking with his placated irises.  _I hadn't seen them glow for a while._

"Nothing my Lord, do you require anything to drink?" He said, quieter this time.

"No, now leave me be. I do not want to see you until I call you, understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

This would have been fine, I could have stayed in that library all evening if I hadn't gotten terribly bored. Sebastian's words kept running rampant in my overworked mind as I read and reread every page of 'Great Expectations'. I found myself glaring at a certain quote from Estella. ' _I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.'_ and a flare of guilt arrived in the pit of my stomach.

Yes, I had been bent and broken and pulled and poked and prodded. I had been moulded and remoulded, mercilessly edited by my captors and now by my butler. During my month of constant dying, I was scrubbed raw before being dragged through dirt, they must have thought that the harder they cleaned, the closer they would be to finding  _purity._

And now, with Sebastian breathing down my neck, it was hard to ignore the looks he gave me. I damned my weak self for allowing his condescending glances and disappointed murmurs to alter my opinions and change my decisions.

I was becoming the feast that he wanted.

_He tried to eat me._

And yet, through all of this, I was still selfish and arrogant. I did not appear to care for my family or servants. I had no friends. The only person I spoke to regularly was my monster, the being that aimed to make me crumble.

Perhaps I should have gone out that evening.

I glared into the fireplace, bursting and bubbling as it was. "I am a fool." I murmured out into the hissing flames before placing my book face down and slowly rising from my armchair.

What would my father have done? It was simple, really. He would not have been in such a childish situation in the first place. He would have joined my mother wherever she decided to go. He would have taken the time to court and impress her, make promises and plans for the future.

Vincent Phantomhive would not have stubbornly stayed in his manor,  _my_ manor, pushing his servants away when they only wanted to protect the Phantomhive reputation.

My father was much, much wiser than me. He was bigger and stronger and did not need a  _demon_ to survive. He also liked to drink from time to time and admittedly, I had never really tried.

 _Perhaps,_ I wondered,  _that could be something we have in common, even if we are nothing alike._

I steeled my resolve as I silently made my way out of the library. Sebastian's presence was right behind me, as expected, perhaps he was curious... or annoyed. It didn't matter either way.

"My Lord?" He began, as he always did. "I did not realise that you wished to go to bed." His tone was light and innocently curious, yet I felt the weight of his words. Did he seem... upset? Unamused? Unsettled? I could not be sure but he was anything but  _innocently_  curious.

"I said I would call for you when you were needed, did I not?"

I sensed him double-take, rethink his strategy, perhaps. Whatever he would say, it would all be an attempt to  _mould_ my response. "Well, yes my Lord, but I did not hear your call."

An arrogant scoff, playing the part of the disagreeable earl, as always. "That's because I didn't."

"Why would you... where exactly are you headed, then?" I did not enjoy how informal this conversation was becoming. I am not his acquaintance, nor his friend. He should not feel the need to question me.

"The billiards room. Now run along, I am sure you have tasks to complete." I said, attempting to sound condescending.

"Who shall you play pool with, young master? We have no guests and I believe Mr Tanaka has already retired for the night."

I turned my head to meet his eyes, wondering, for a fleeting moment, if the souls he ate simply disappeared, melting from the universe or if they were trapped forever, in his inhuman belly or inhuman eyes. "Perhaps I am not heading to the billiards room for a game of pool."

"If the young master is suggesting that he plans to  _drink_ this evening, I would strongly discourage it."

"You discourage everything I do, Sebastian. I am old enough to drink." I waved my hand in his face, ignoring it purposefully, and settled into my gait. I hated that my leg still ached, that I had to limp if I needed to run. It made me feel inadequate, having Sebastian was supposed to  _stop_ those feelings.

"I am not questioning that, master. It is just the case of drinking alone that causes me unease."

"Are you suggesting that I am not able to care for myself?" I spat and buried my feelings beneath my pea coat and shirt, I hid them away for now, in the hopes that Sebastian would not weasel the weakness out.

"Of course not, my Lord. Perhaps I should stay with you, though, for it would not be wise to... overdrink."

"I will not get drunk, demon. Leave me be." I said, knowing well that I was not aware of my limits at the best of times. Still, it was Sebastian's job to tell the truth, not mine.

"Master-"

"Go away! I don't want to see you for the rest of the evening! This is an order!"

"Yes,  _my Lord."_ Was all he murmured before he departed, seeming to drift into the walls. I sighed, knowing that I had set myself up for a new game with the demon. Oh well, I could deal with that tomorrow. I just wanted to be tired and pessimistic in peace.

By the time I had reached the dim billiards room, I was already feeling light-headed. Perhaps I should have allowed Sebastian to stay. After all, he seemed to know what he was talking about most of the time, and besides, he'd seen it all before.

I was nothing special.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I arrived in front of the alcohol cupboard. Silently, I opened the wooden doors and glared inside. I had no idea what I was doing.

The bottles seemed to blur into an amber shade of loneliness and I felt the need to chug any of them, fed up with the headache constantly pressing on my brain. Anything would do.

Suddenly, I felt a dash of wind pass my neck and I shuddered, turning around. "I thought I-" My expression snapped back to its usually aggravated grimace as I spun on the balls of my feet, "Oh," I stated as I gazed at the space before me. Sebastian was not there as I was expecting, instead, the eclipse of an unlit room said hello and silently crept closer to me.

Wondering if I should ask Bardroy to light a fire in the fireplace, I searched through the different types of alcohol, wanting something to numb this horribly empty feeling. Digging into the back of the collection, my eye and hand stilled when a particular bottle caught my attention. I grabbed it, along with a tumbler, and made my way to one of the musty, red armchairs. No amount of cleaning would rid this piece of furniture of its memories, of all of the watchdogs and villains and  _supernatural_ beings that had sat there.

Deep down, I knew that the chair was only three years old, that my father had never actually sat in this chair, just as he had never set foot in  _my_ manor. That gave me a little bit of comfort.

Although most people would never know, everything here  _I_ had built, everything here  _I_ owned. They were not Sebastian's achievements, he was simply an extension of me.

With an unsteady hand, I unscrewed the lid, the word  _absinthe_ making me cautious. With an unsteady mind, I pushed the feelings of doubt away.

The bottle and lid were placed on the small table next to me and the glass was lifted to my lips. I breathed into the glass as I stared out at the doorway, the sparse glare of candlelight in the hallways causing shadows to dance along the walls.

I took a sip, recoiling at the fire as it sailed down my throat. The hand wrapped around my glass stilled and the one on the armrest dug into the cold material. I felt a choleric presence swimming around me. Suddenly, I was more alert, listening closely to every creek and whisper that sounded in  _my_ ancient three-year-old manor.

In my mind, I knew the feeling was either Sebastian not following orders or the drink pulling at the frayed strings of my mind.

"Sebastian." I said, quietly at first, "Sebastian, come here."

I waited for a moment, glaring out at the corridor which grew more and more ominous the longer I watched the shadows gasp into dirty-red walls.

Nothing.

I was both angry and proud, he had followed his orders, yes, but surely my calls overrode that?

Slumping back into the chair, I decided to drink more instead of worrying my aching head over the overly-complicated nature of Sebastian Michaelis. The Absinthe ran down my throat like syrup and I moved my gaze to the somehow more unsettling ceiling.

It seemed to continue upwards for an age, without a real ending, like the paper-work piled up on my desk, like my servants' incompetence, like Elizabeth's 'interesting' stories, like my month in captivity, like my devil's long existence, like the pain I would feel when my very  _brief_ life ended.

Perhaps I should have felt selfish for believing that I was the only human on this decrepit earth that had felt this way. Of course not. There had been many others in my position, those stronger, more powerful, richer and prouder than I. They had more money and sense and wisdom than me but they had all felt this - this hollow cavern that gnawed away inside.

I filled it with alcohol.

I laughed as I gulped the second glass. I cried as I downed the fourth. I began wondering if I was still drinking on my sixth.

My stomach was doing somersaults, flopping around in my body like a dead fish. Somehow, the hole had only grown, the acidity of the absinthe causing my weak body to crumble from the inside out.

I tumbled further into the chair, babbling uncontrollably. "I don't want to marry her. But I must. Listen, Father! It wasn't me! I'm not supposed to marry her!" I sobbed and collapsed onto my front, folded in half. "I'm not me!" I cried, tears staining the shorts I had slumped onto.

My fingers danced down my legs, meeting at bony ankles. I felt the small piece of raised skin, a neat little scar that always seemed to taunt me. "Sebastian," I whispered, for the umpteenth time since I had fallen into this predicament. "Sebastian!... I need you."

He hadn't come.

He hadn't saved me.

"Damn it!" I cursed and stamped my foot onto the carpeted floor. "Damn it all to hell! Damn him! DAMN HIM!" I seethed before tossing the glass at the pool table, it smashed on impact and tiny shards etched their way into the wood and felt alike.

I tumbled out of the room, spit dribbling from my chewed lips. Fine, I had thought, I would just have to  _make_ him come to me. My feet moved stupidly, I felt as if I had just been born, forced to stumble and fall.

In a split-second decision, I turned from the corridor that led to my room to the direction of the foyer.

I passed all of the forgotten faces, people trapped inside oil and acrylic. I really should have had those paintings taken down. The strangers glared at me, a drunkard at thirteen.

I sunk into the stairwell, clinging onto the bannisters as I slowly traipsed down the steps. My shoes scuffed the perfectly polished wood. I told myself at the time that I would apologise to Mey-Rin in the morning, she didn't deserve to be in the crossfire of my shattered emotions.

My sudden feelings of sympathy terrified me and I staggered down the last few steps. To my surprise, I didn't fall to the floor. A strange feeling swept through me as I was manoeuvred away from the floor by seemingly nothing. The  _thing_ stood me up straight before leaving again, even though there had been nothing there in the first place.

I blinked stupidly, beginning to wonder if I had succumbed to the hallucinations that absinthe could sometimes cause.

Still, I continued moving forward, legs dragging behind me as I made my way to the grand entrance. It was at that moment that I remembered that the front door would be locked. It was always locked.

However, when I pulled on the heavy door, it opened immediately, allowing me to stare into the obscurity of England's nights.  _Oh._ I did not dwell as I probably should have. I did not fear that the manor's security had been breached. I did not stumble back inside to warn everyone else. I was  _drunk_ after all.

The air that hit me when I stepped outside made me fall back into the wood of the door. It was cold and crisp, laced with newly-shed rain. I grimaced as mud splashed up the sides of my boots and I far-from-elegantly began to make my way towards the stables.

The sparse lights that paved the main path eventually drained away as I stepped further and further from the front of the manor. As I walked, I felt as if I could finally breathe, the moon smiled down at me and I smiled back.

I am not one for parties, or dancing, or  _drinking_ and I am definitely not one for being grabbed from behind with the vigour of a mad man.

A startled noise slipped from me as I was tugged backwards. "Don't make a sound, you little shit." A voice said, dangerously low. I could smell the smoke on his breath and the yellow of his teeth.

His whole body pressed against mine and I squirmed, not wholly conscious. "Sebastian," I whispered out, one last call before something hit me on the head and I was knocked out cold.

•••

Waking up after being hit on the head with a blunt object was hard enough already, but with the dangerous concoction swirling in my gut, it felt as if I was being dragged through the pits of hell.

I felt bile rise in my throat before my eyes could even open. I could hear someone speaking but it sounded as if we were all underwater, liquid flooding through me.

I then realised that it was not water rushing through me but vomit, which had now left my body entirely.

Once I had stopped heaving, I was plunged into reality, all of my senses caught up with me at once. "The fucking kid's hungover, Simon!" One man, who I had just thrown up on, yelled, dry heaving. My eyes stared straight up at him, looking but not properly seeing. He was short and stout with stubby fingers that moved like sausages. He waved them around madly, pointing out the yellowish stain I had just hurled at him.

His eyes were a murky brown, green swirling into them like a swamp. He looked like a troll with his bashed-in teeth and mad black hair.

"Stop complaining, just get on with it." Sounded a much more controlled retort as another man stepped into focus. He was slight and taller than his troll of an acquaintance, in no way was he  _strong_ or  _fit_ and if I had not been so far gone, I probably would have been able to slip away quite easily. His brown hair looked as if it had been combed fairly recently and his dark blue eyes bore into mine, he was rather like a beetle, with beady eyes and a blank expression. My eyes darted to  _his_ fingers. They were skeletal, bony things that reminded me of the Undertaker. They looked as if they could slice through my skin if they so much as touched me, dipping into my flesh like a spoon in cake batter.

I really wanted cake.

I struggled in the grip of the rope that had been tied around my wrists messily. It spewed over my lap, drenching me in its itchy material.

Sebastian wasn't here.

Sebastian hadn't come.

Sebastian  _wouldn't_ come.

I allowed my head to fall back, hitting the cold wall. The air was filled with the smell of bile, alcohol and... fish? Sewage? The river Thames?

I shoved myself to the side, hitting my back on the wall as I fell onto my belly. Glaring up at the dank scenery, I realised that I was most probably in a dock of some sort. I scrambled to push myself forward, completely forgetting about the men in front of me.

After he had removed his jacket, covered in my supper and a  _lot_ of absinthe, the troll turned to my squirming self and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

I squealed as he yanked my head up but pushed my back down, causing me to arch upwards. It made me almost glad that Sebastian was not here to see how far I had fallen, I had not made such a fuss since I was a child and certainly not since I had my encounter with the cult.

The alcohol still thrummed within me, preventing my body from doing anything useful, so instead, I curled in on myself and cried, pitifully.

For a moment, the men stuttered to a halt, staring at me in amazement. Then it turned to amusement. Then confusion. Then worry.

"Are you sure this is the kid?"

"Yeah, has to be. Dark 'air, blue eye, eye patch, scrawny."

"He doesn't look like a guard dog." The beetle stated as he crouched in front of me. All I could feel was the pounding in my head and the lack of a butler beside me. I wanted Sebastian. The beetle's hand clasped onto my stick-of-a wrist and dragged me forward, I went without any complaints. "What's your name?" He asked.

I continued with my crying, feeling utterly useless. I had not been bent into a better shape. I was hollow. I was fake. I was nothing without my butler. I was nothing without my father. I was nothing like my father. I couldn't even enjoy drinking as he could. I couldn't even join my betrothed at a ball. I couldn't even listen to people's advice without getting offended. Useless, utterly useless.  _I am a fool._

No wonder Sebastian had tried to eat me in Germany. He had always had such high hopes for me, he promised that I would become powerful, that everyone would fear me. How could everyone fear me if I fear myself?

"What's your name, runt!?" The beetle repeated, now shouting. A hand curled back into my hair, those bony fingers pressing down on my skull. His other hand let go of my wrist and grabbed onto my chin, twisting my head to face his own. His blunt nails dug into the back of my head, denting my crown. How poetic.

"Phantomhive," I gasped, just wishing for the hands to retreat.

"See! I told you I had the right kid." The troll confirmed, smiling smugly. A sober Earl Phantomhive would have come up with a clever quip to throw them off, or a comment to make them irate. Then, when they were about to lash out and put me in harm's way, Sebastian would swoop in, catching bullets and throwing cutlery as he did. A sober Earl Phantomhive should have thought about his butler's words and not used the power he had unnecessarily. A sober Earl Phantomhive shouldn't have ordered when no order was needed.

The beetle glared at his swamp-eyed friend before turning back, "which Phantomhive?"

My breath was soft and shallow as I was pulled off of the floor, back curling into the air as my knees stayed on the ground. "The l-last one..."

The last one. That was me. Selling my soul to the devil, and for what? So that I'd end up dying without achieving anything? I was getting revenge for myself but when I died it would mean nothing. Except that there would be a happy underworld and an even happier demon.

At least I could make  _someone_ happy for once.

"Let's just get him in the boat, we'll worry about how legitimate he is later." The troll said, walking to where my legs hung limp and he lifted them. I tried to move out of his hold once more, I said Sebastian's name in my head once more as well, just in case.

Perhaps he didn't know where I had gone, or he had been hurt, perhaps someone had broken the contract. Perhaps  _he_ had broken the contract. Had I breached it? No, that was impossible. Or was it? My mind buzzed as the troll lugged me onto his back and began carrying me to my death-boat.

His hair smelt like the docks, salt and sweat and sewage. Nothing like Sebastian's hair. My hands dangled down his back and I looked at the pale hairs that had started springing up on my skin, there was a small line where I had been cut during my captivity, hair wasn't growing there. Even though my body grew, the parts of me which that month had reached would never grow up. It reminded me that I was still that scared ten-year-old, waiting for help to come.

I groaned when my head hit the floor of the boat and I complained when the rope was switched with chains. I threw up when the boat jolted forwards and I stared at London as it floated by.

No one was around this late at night so there was no point in crying out for help. I had promised myself that I would not call for Sebastian again. It would not make a difference.

The troll and the beetle were muttering muted words but I ignored them, I did not have the strength nor patience to listen to what they planned to do to me. Instead, I followed the lampposts with my eyes, watching as they sailed past.

My hand was lifted in front of my face, two fingers making the shape of a pair of legs. I made them jump from one post to another, sometimes doing somersaults and twirls as they danced,  _free._ I found myself giggling as the boat moved faster and my fingers ran quicker. My insides sloshed around and I imagined that the sound of the boat on the water was my innards, which was entertaining until it made me sick again.

"I'm surprised the poor bastard didn't die, he's so past it." The brown-haired beetle commented, "Hey!" He called, "how drunk are you?"

 _Drunk enough,_ I thought as my brain whirled around in a constant state of limbo. One second depression would shake me, the hurtful loss of Sebastian and the understanding that I had  _not_ been bent for the better wracking my brain. The next I would feel the urge to laugh claw up my throat and coddle my tongue.

In the first second, I would worry about my constantly shifting aura but by the next one, I was ready to forget everything. Content to live without purpose. Content to die.

My fingers paused their running as they leapt onto the Houses of Parliament, the first second was back and I suddenly ached for home.

I knew that home was not a physical thing for me. It was people and feelings and tastes. It was smells and memories and comfort. My smile faded and my laughs tapered away when I realised Sebastian had also moulded what home was to me.

He had chosen who I knew and who I didn't, he made me feel safe after nightmares and entertained when I was bored. He cooked everything I ate and chose which scents would fill the manor.

He was with me for most of my waking hours and therefore he had invaded many of my recent memories - not that I wanted to remember much of what my life was like before I met him -  and when I had been sure that He had outcast me and I was all alone on the earth, Sebastian had come, he had saved me. He comforted me, cleaned me and fed me _._ He took up a large chunk of my life and I knew that if he was not there with me, there would be no point in me staying where I was. Whether that be in England or my body and mind and spirit.

Sebastian was home.

Now my home was gone.

"He keeps on ignoring us." The troll muttered, turning his back on me as if he thought that it would prevent his sour words from reaching my ears. "We can't have him acting up."

"It's fine. Leave him alone. By the time we get there, he'll be sober."

"I don't think you'll like me much when I'm sober," I mumbled, arms dropping to my sides. Both men turned to me, stunned into silence as I formed my first coherent sentence. "I'm awfully rude. And proud. And... and smug." I listed, glaring up at the stars. "People are always calling me a b-brat, and I can't trust anyone."

"What did you drink?"

"Absinthe... a lot of absinthe."

"Why?"

I paused, mind running at a mile a minute, then I turned to the beetle, flicked my eyes up and down his body before meeting his curious orbs. I always wondered what people thought when they saw how dark and stormy my eye was. His may have rivalled my own. "Because I envy Estella."

I saw a bolt of lightning streak through his iris' and a mountain of waves crash through the angry blue. I saw his composure waver and I decided that he would be easy to break... even just with words.

"Right. We should probably get started." The troll interrupted. His gravelly voice cut into our clipped conversation.

"Started with what?" The skeleton asked, turning to his companion.

The troll laughed, I could almost see the flies spewing out of his mouth as his crooked teeth simmered in the damp spring air. "Well, we can't just hand him over like this." He said before waddling into the cabin and retrieving a different outfit for me to wear.

My heart rate excelled when I thought of his grimy hands touching my body. No one was allowed to touch me,  _nothing_ was allowed to touch me. Even Sebastian wasn't allowed to lay a finger me when I didn't want him to... although...

_"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"_

_"Young Master, if you get so worked up your body will-"_

_"I don't care! Get out!"_

_"Understood."_

I jolted when a chime sounded, all three of us stared behind the boat, at parliament, my body felt like collapsing as Elizabeth's tower sang out into the dead night's air. The clang of metal on metal rang around us. It was midnight.

I had always counted the chimes of clocks, my mother had said to do so if I woke up at night after a nightmare. I knew it was to prevent me from running to their room in a panic. But, during one especially long night, I had waited. I had waited and waited for what felt like hours for the clocks to chime and before I knew it, the sun had risen and it was time to get up anyway.

I had asked my mother why it had not worked and she had blushed most terribly. 'Oh!' She had said, 'darling, I am so sorry, I forgot that our clocks do not chime at night.' I had also blushed terribly in response. 'Why don't you go back to sleep and I'll get Tanaka to buy a brand new clock, just for you? One that chimes into the night.'

And she did. And I listened at night for the chimes. And they rang like they were supposed to.

They didn't calm me down, though.

One.

"Come on, runt. Let's get ya dressed up all pretty for the men." The troll grunted, looming closer and closer.

Two.

"Is this necessary?" Simon asked, raking an unsteady hand through his brown hair.

"Of course it is. We're getting a fortune for him." His friend replied, coming to kneel before me.

Three.

I squirmed in my place, metal chains dragging on a damp floor, scraping shards of wood across my bare legs.

Four.

A hiss left my mouth when his sausage fingers grabbed onto my stockings and tugged them down. He smiled carelessly and shoved a hand into my hair.

Five.

"Daniel, Stop. You're hurting him." Simon gasped as my skull was yanked backwards and a head nestled itself into the crook of my neck.

Six.

I made a sorry sound when my shorts were yanked down from my waist and a voice murmured, "rich little boys always smell like vanilla. I wonder why that is..."

Seven.

The beetle attempted to drag his rabid companion away, bony fingers looking close to snapping. My consciousness began to drift away from me and I focused on the rocking of the boat rather than the body hauling me down.

Eight.

Burning hot fingers undid the buttons on my jacket and I felt myself being bent and broken all over again. I felt my soul squirming and twisting, flying around my body like a tadpole.

Nine.

Had I been sober and focused, my torso may have felt cold... freezing, even. But as 'Daniel' took pleasure in my pain and as he ripped me of clothing and dignity, all I could feel was the scalding of a fire. A great fire.

Ten.

The chimes of Big Ben slowly sank into the river Thames behind us. I wasn't sure which direction we were travelling in or how far from our destination we were, all I thought of was  _home._

My mind blanked when I felt nails digging into my skin, ripping their way through flesh to find blood.

Eleven.

_"Brooding over your fears and regrets, curled up in your blanket, is not what you should be doing right now... come... get out of bed."_

_"N...no!"_

_"Oh? Well. You will abandon your position as the Queen's watchdog then?" A pause. "Very well. No one will blame you for not wanting that forever. The servants will surely treat you well. However._ **_Abandoning your revenge mid-way is against the contract_ ** _."_

_He tried to eat me._

I cried out when Daniel parted my legs and stared greedily down at my underwear, it was as if he was possessed, swamp eyes mad with hunger.

A tear fell from my eye when I saw Simon sprawled out on the floor. I hadn't seen Daniel strike him down.

Everything crescendoed into a loud, garbled mess and I cried out for my butler, my demon, my  _home_  once more before frantic hands dipped lower and my eye squeezed shut.

Twelve.  
.  
.  
.  
A deafening silence rang.

Nothing.

Nothing happened.  
.  
.  
.  
But why had-

 **"Pigs have no place in polite society,"** Low, threatening,  _demonic._ **"And they certainly have no place touching** ** _my_** **master."**

Oh.

_Oh._

Suddenly, a crack of bones and a gargled cry flew past my face, and morbid as it may be, it was music to my ears.

"Wha-" Daniel began before the breath was stolen from him. My eyes were squeezed shut but I could feel the way the air was displaced as he was shoved from above me.

**"The voice of a pig can hardly be disguised and your squeals are a true testament to that, Daniel."**

It all swirled around me, the fuzz of the atmosphere, the pressure of the universe, the sheer feeling of being  _untouchable_.

**"I can be patient, if you wish to waddle around in your sty then I shall not complain. It is so much quicker if you hold still, though."**

I had heard of Edison and Westinghouse's inventions and wondered if this was what  _electricity_ felt like, buzzing in the air, dipping into all empty space. It certainly electrified me as I felt the darkness run all over my frozen body, as it skipped up my torso and swept my hair away from my damp forehead.

I would have even said the darkness was gentle if its touches were not accompanied by the wails of a dying man.

Little dots of liquid began peppering my skin and I wondered if it was simply water from the Thames or the blood of the troll.

My eyes began to open, curious and drunk, but a glove-clad hand stilled my movement and I gasped as it cupped itself over my eyes. So soft, so delicate, so... real. It felt as if time paused, if only for a moment.

"Master, please do not look. I apologise for my incompetence, I must deal with your captors and then I will take you home." Sebastian said sweetly, his mouth so close I could almost taste his words. "I will give you a hot mug of Earl Grey and an immense slice of chocolate cake when we return. You have done so well."

I nodded pathetically, feet coming up to hide some of my exposed self. Gently, a second hand pulled my shorts back up my legs and broke the chains clamped around my hands as if they were made of biscuits.

"I will be back momentarily. Do not move or worry. I am here now." A coat was placed onto my shoulders and I curled into the warmth.

"I wasn't worrying," I whispered half-heartedly and a teasing chuckle resonated next to my ear.

"Of course not. Now, stay put."

I nodded again and the hand retreated. "Don't leave me again." I murmured, not expecting to be heard.

"I never left you, my Lord," Sebastian said cryptically before he went back to his slaughtering.

Perhaps we had reached the port in the time I had my eyes closed or perhaps the men I was supposed to dress up for had climbed on board. All I knew was that the number of voices pleading for mercy had increased dramatically.

I tried to listen out for Simon's voice but did not hear it. Whilst I thought  _he_ was the one I could break with words it may have been the other way around.

Silently, I did not wish for him to die.

I laid back into the uncomfortable cocoon of damp, salty wood and snuggled further into the offensively comfortable coat.

Perhaps I could forgive Sebastian for this. Maybe he was in the right. He had warned me against drinking alone and I hadn't listened, ending up here.

In the end, it didn't matter. I would still be his meal and he'd still be my home. Nothing could change that.

And as the night continued to grow wickeder and my eyes continued to stay shut, I counted the screams that haunted the twilight air and wondered; why had mother ever said that clock chimes would help me fall asleep?

The sounds of death lulled me to sleep so much faster.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...If I were you then I'd stop talking,  
> 'Cause soon you'll be a dead man walking  
> No, I don't care what momma says,  
> You'll wind me up or you'll wind up dead."


	6. It's Always Sunny In Brighton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel is (not) unafraid of heights, Sebastian expresses his (lack of) loyalty and it is discovered that the butler would(n't) choose his master over a cat...
> 
> Music: The Darker The Weather// The Better The Man by MISSIO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Distant, everything is scattered,  
> When your mind is shattered and torn apart.  
> In an instant, I can be indifferent,  
> The blame is always shifted from the start...

"I thought you loathed the beach."

Ciel grunted from his place leaning against the glacial bars. "I do."

A chuckle came from the earl's companion as he moved closer to lean on the bar keeping the pair away from the crashing waters below. "You seem to be enjoying yourself, though."

"Don't be a fool. I am merely making the best of a bad situation, as you taught me to do." Ciel replied and sunk further into the poles, the ice of their touch three layers of clothing away. A shiver wracked his frame as a gust of wind from the south coast mussed his hair.

A pair of hands readjusted the coat on his master's shoulders before they rested back on the side of Brighton's West Pier. "Words cannot express how proud I am of you for doing as I instructed," Sebastian said smugly.

"Don't be cheeky." Ciel hummed and bumped into his butler, moving so he could lean against his pole of a manservant.

"I wouldn't dare."

The clouds parted like curtains, allowing a breath of damp-yellow sunlight to drip onto Ciel's face. He closed his working eye and sighed, listening as the waves argued far below. He could feel the weighty glance next to him but didn't meet Sebastian's eyes. Instead, he squeezed his lid shut tighter and curled his gloved hand onto the railing. "What would you do if I fell from here?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I threw myself off of this pier, what would you do?"

"I'd catch you."

Ciel paused, moving his foot forward so the toe of his boot hung off the edge of the pier. "What if I didn't  _want_ you to catch me?"

He felt Sebastian move closer, coats brushing together as Ciel pushed his boot even further over the edge. "May I ask where this is coming from?"

Ciel shrugged, "just a question, I am a  _curious_ master after all." The wind howled as rain joined in its haunting score, tiny flecks of water darted around the pair, barely noticeable. "So? What would you do if I threw myself into the water and ordered you not to save me?"

"I'd catch you."

"What if I ordered you not to catch me and there was... a cat here."

"A cat?" Sebastian mirrored, amused.

"Yes. If there was a cat and someone was going to launch it off of this pier and I had ordered you not to catch me, what would you do?" Ciel rambled, feeling as if he grew more and more childish the longer he spoke.

Sebastian thought for a moment, simmering in his master's innocent behaviour. He turned, meeting the exact reflection of the stormy sea below in his master's eye. He paused and lowered his lids before uttering, "I'd catch you."

"You're no fun." Ciel pouted, murmuring into his hand as he ignored his servant.

"Oh? You would prefer it if I broke the contract? If I chose to allow you to fall to your death?"

"Well... no... just... you were supposed to humour me, tell me that a cat's life is much more important than mine, seeing as I shall be dead in a few years," Ciel said, glaring down at the rugged waves, slicing each other to pieces. "What if I had given up on my revenge?" He suddenly said, startling even himself, "What if you had already taken my soul, right here, and in my last moments, I let myself fall? We wouldn't be in a contract, would we?"

Ciel's heart fluttered in his chest as he imagined plunging into the icy blue of the sea, he wondered if all the breath would leave him at once, flooding out of his body as the water flooded in.

He imagined staring up at the sunshine as it melted away, forced apart by a layer of water too cold to imagine.

He imagined watching Sebastian stare helplessly as his catch escaped the net, slipping through his fingers and swimming to eternal freedom.

He imagined dying, being allowed a chance to see Saint Peter and walk up to those pearly gates they talked about so much. Even if he was turned away and forced to become a slave of hell, at least he would have had a chance.

"I'd catch you."

By this point, the boy's whole leg was dangling off the side and it felt as if he had done half the job already. "What if I ordered you to push me?"

Sebastian laughed, "my Lord, I believe you have me all wrong." He shifted closer and his coat became a blanket, barring the young Earl from the eyes of the other seaside goers. Then his aura shifted drastically.

The devil's eyes became dark and patronising, boring into his master's soul. His hands moved to either side of the Earl, and he turned the boy so he faced the roaring sea, nose red from the endless bashing of the wind.

The demon leant his head so it rested next to Ciel's and grinned when he felt the child's arms tense. "You can order me around as much as you want. I understand that you love the feeling of power over someone such as me, even if you are aware that it is hollow." He kicked the earl's other foot from underneath him and the boy gasped, gripping onto the bars violently in a pitiful attempt to hold himself up. Sebastian kept his charge's body upright using his hands to support the little thing's armpits. "However, you do not get to decide how and when you die. I have made a promise and I intend to keep it. You cannot trip me up with your words and you will not be able to fool me with your cunning ploys. Never forget, Lord Phantomhive, you may be a wicked noble but you will  _never_ have the devil's tongue."

Ciel breathed heavily, hanging off the edge of the pier as he was. "Say, Sebastian." He mumbled, gulping in another breath between words. "What if  _you_ wanted to throw me off the pier? What would you do then?"

The butler released his master, uncovering him and setting the boy down on his feet. He smiled widely and offered a hand as the rain began to pick up speed.

"I did just catch you, did I not?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...But the darker the weather, the better the man,  
> You can take all you want, but not who I am.
> 
> You can't have my soul."


	7. Tenderness, Solace and Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel grows curious, Sebastian offers a bath before bed and it is discovered that puzzles are not worth the effort...
> 
> Music: Secret by The Pierces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Look into my eyes, now you're getting sleepy.  
> Are you hypnotised by secrets that you're keeping?  
> I know what you're keeping, I know what you're keeping...

_"... Sebastian. I can't afford to have the butler of the Phantomhive family stay in that state forever." Lord Phantomhive commented as the cold dug its fingers into his scalp. "Make sure you rest up when we return to the manor... you did well today."_

_Cerise eyes widened, fatigue clear in their diminished gaze. "Young Master..." Sebastian murmured, "please stop. I cannot believe I am hearing you say these words..."_

•••

"I am glad to be home."

"Hmm, I am inclined to agree with you, sir," Sebastian said brightly, as he accompanied his master up the pathway, vines following them up to the steps. "I believe relaxation is due."

"Definitely." Ciel agreed, nodding his head pointedly. "I have your services until tomorrow, no?"

Sebastian nodded, "Yes. I thank you most humbly for the chance to receive a day off. You are too kind."

Ciel snorted, "I am hardly kind. Anyhow, you'll probably end up spending the day with  _them."_

"If by 'them' you mean the strays, I'm afraid you would be correct," Sebastian said as he proceeded to unlock the door. "But until midnight tonight, I am all yours."

Ciel only huffed, shoving past his servant's shoulder and coming to stand in the foyer. He made a peculiar noise and stretched out, cane lifting off of the floor as he held his hands above his head. "That Campania trip seemed to take months." He hissed as his bones cracked into place. The scent of the entryway, the creak of the pillars and the warm red of the rugs were familiar.  _Finally,_ something was familiar.

It truly was good to be home.

"Quite right, sir." Sebastian simpered as he watched his master regain his bearings. "May I suggest a bath and a nap? The servants should be back from the townhouse soon and I doubt there will be much quiet after that."

"Mmm, a nap. I'm not sure if I can stomach the idea of being submerged in any mass of water quite yet." Ciel said as he handed his cane and hat to Sebastian. "I'll have something to drink before I retire, though."

"My Lord," Sebastian said softly, his character stirring the atmosphere. Ciel turned to regard his butler. "Perhaps a bath would be good for you. And some food."

Ciel blinked. "All... alright then. I suppose I can survive a short bath."

Sebastian then beamed, lips curling abnormally as he led the way. The young Earl gawked at his butler's back, wondering what on Earth Sebastian was doing.  _Why was it so important that I have a bath?_ He thought, insulting his butler with his gaze alone.  _I hope he doesn't let the power of a day off get to his head._ The boy found himself grinning when he thought about how he could manipulate his manservant with the fact that  _he_ \- The Earl of Phantomhive, stern, strong and famous for being ruthless - allowed a meagre servant an  _entire_ extra day off.

The butler would surely not be allowed to forget his master's  _game_ sacrifice.   _I did not ask for this_ _dinner, Sebastian_ _..._   _remember when you left my services for a day and I had to eat Bard's cooking?  Do you refuse to let me choose what to wear? What about the time Tanaka, bless his soul,_ _clothed_ _me in the dress from the Jack the Ripper case? Sebastian, be a dear and make me some cake. No? Have you forgotten that Mey-Rin was in charge of serving my meals? I got covered in tea and salmon. Now, be a good boy and do as you're told._

"Is everything alright, young master?" Sebastian's even tone cut into the boy's thoughts. It was only then he realised they had reached the top of the staircase.

"Everything is fine." He said, reigning in his glee.

"I am glad to hear it."

•••

Sebastian mindfully guided his master into the tub, the boy suckered in his belly as the hot of the water reached his fatigued skin. The manservant then moved backwards, readjusted his rubber gloves and shifted to fetch the oils and soaps.

"Why did you want me to have a bath?"

"The Young Master has had several long journeys in the past week. He deserves as much time to relax as possible." Sebastian affirmed, knowing that it would not pacify his master.

No matter how much Ciel yearned to argue, he held his tongue. Bickering with Sebastian would just lead to chaos, humiliation and no answers.

Sebastian's hands were tender as they ran through his master's hair. Ciel had been treated rather like a ragdoll recently and his scalp was sure to be irritated, so the butler made sure that his touches were light.

"Tomorrow..." Ciel started, not sure what he wanted to say.

"I will still be there if you need me." Sebastian finished.

Ciel convulsed subtly, doubling over as his asthma attempted to overtake him.  _Perhaps that was the cause of the bath._ "No..." He spluttered out. "I just wondered what you were planning on doing."

"I don't believe it's proper for a meagre servant to inform his Lord of his plans," Sebastian said evenly as he moved to pat his master's back.

The child ceased his coughing and slowly leant on the tub, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "Don't think of it as a master asking his servant. Think of it as a master asking his demon."

Sebastian hummed in his throat and discreetly turned his master's head to reach an unruly fringe. "An interesting idea, but not a wise one." He commented and drew his master's left shoulder towards him.

"And why is that?"

The butler didn't respond for a moment but Ciel waited unabatingly. He knew not to infringe upon his pet's train of thought. "Well, all I am saying is that the manner of a servant and a demon are quite the antithesis of one another." He eventually replied, twisting to lather his hands with soap once more.

"I'm not sure that's true."

"Oh? How come?"

"Well, you are both hired by an individual who gives you tasks they want you to complete. Your goals are set by your masters and you are not allowed to leave the human's side until your services are no longer required." Ciel explained, feet protruding from the water now and then.

Sebastian chuckled modestly, fetching a pail of water to rinse his master's hair. "That is where you are wrong, my Lord. Now please, tilt your head back."

Once again, Ciel did as he was told and a heavy rush of water cascaded down his face, carrying a multitude of bubbles down with it. The boy rubbed the water from his eyes and pivoted on his spot in the tub. "Is that not how demons work?"

"Come, let us get you dressed. Since I am receiving a day off tomorrow, it is only right that you receive this afternoon off."

"But what were you saying about- mmph." Ciel was cut off when he was enveloped by a towel. Although he was blinded and muffled by the fleecy white cotton, a spark of interest flickered inside of him.

If Sebastian wished to keep something from him, Ciel would weasel it out one way or another. No matter how much bickering ensued.

•••

Ciel stared at Sebastian's back as he fussed with a bouquet sent from the Midford's. The servants had returned, Ciel had been served a wonderful dinner and everything seemed to have gone back to 'normal'. Yet something gnawed away at Ciel as he stared holes in his butler's tailcoat.

"You can ask me a question, my Lord," Sebastian said calmly, back still turned.

Ciel looked away, glancing over to his duel windows and fireplace. "I don't have anything to ask." And it was true, he didn't. All he knew was that he was missing something, something that had possibly occurred during their tragic boat journey. It was rather like a puzzle, yet at the moment he was missing the centre, it was all hollowed out. He wasn't even aware of the picture he was supposed to be constructing.

Sebastian had all the pieces, obviously. And Ciel would have to pry them out of his hands and build up an image that he had no instructions for.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

"Demons do not necessarily stay with their masters," Sebastian clarified, handing over a piece of the puzzle. But where did it fit?

"No?"

Sebastian shook his head and left the flowers to wilt. He then stepped towards his master and removed the hope diamond that sat on his thumb. "Sometimes contractees wish for me to complete their tasks out of sight. For some strange reason, they do not want to be around me..."

Ciel snorted, "I can't think for the life of me why."

"Quite," Sebastian hummed in agreement. The eyepatch came off next. "Also, if the human I choose to mark is too vain or scared, our covenant is hidden and therefore our bond is weak. That affects how... compliant I need to be with their demands."

"I guess it's good that I chose my eye then... is there anywhere that the bond would be stronger?" Ciel queried and subconsciously rubbed the marked eye.

"I suppose your forehead or cheek but I doubt that you would have wanted that," Sebastian said as he lifted the corner of the covers for his master to slide into.

"It's too early for bed, no?" Ciel asked but began to inch in all the same.

Sebastian smiled, "I was going to suggest that you read while I prepare you something to drink."

"That does sound nice." The boy admitted and said a hushed 'thank you' when he was handed a book.

Sebastian then left the room,  _to retrieve something to drink,_ Ciel assumed. He didn't even  _glance_ at which book he had been handed since he didn't plan on reading any of it.

That strange feeling engulfed him again and he just  _knew_ there was something off with Sebastian. Nothing had _happened._ Call it intuition, if you will.

He gazed at the fireplace. He watched as the embers tumbled around each other, vanishing into the inferno they were ensnared in. Nothing would be left there after tonight.

His mind stumbled through everything, striving to find another piece.  _Why in this order? Bath, dinner, bed. I never have a bath before dinner. And I had a bath when we arrived back on dry land, it's not like I was dirty._

_Maybe Sebastian is trying to prove something._

Perhaps, Ciel had wondered, he was so inquisitive because they were on sound terms. It was not like the demon to be so considerate and honest. The young Earl realised that it was only a matter of time before the butler went back to his troublesome ways.

The boy struggled to admit that he was feeling positive. Although The Undertaker had slipped through his fingertips, Ciel felt he could gradually work through the information he had. Earl Phantomhive always operated best  _above_ the performance, shifting pawns and anticipating the most effective of moves.

It would all come toppling down sooner or later.

If the boy had learned anything, it was that nothing good ever lasted. His parents, his aunt, his childhood, his innocence and very soon his soul.

Maybe Ciel felt so agitated because while wounded, it was easy to overlook how inhuman Sebastian was. On that boat, he had seemed vulnerable and fragile, almost parallel to the boy. For a moment, Ciel had felt a thrum of power but it did not last.

Nothing good ever lasts.

Was it good, though? No matter how much he told himself otherwise, he liked his demon to be fiendish.

Ciel flinched when he heard a rap on his door, he seized the book he had been handed and turned blindly to a page.

A cart was wheeled in and the pair made eye contact as soon as Sebastian entered.  _What are you trying to prove?_

Sebastian stood. Sebastian smirked. "Enjoying the book?"

"Huh? Oh. Yes, it is alright I suppose."

The butler concealed a laugh as he said; "I have such a talented master. I do not think I have ever met a human that can read twenty chapters in six minutes... especially when the book is  _upside down."_

Eyebrows furrowed for a moment as the child looked down at the book as it innocently taunted him. "I..." He stammered and felt the heat steal down his throat.

"You've had quite a lot on your mind this eve, correct?" Sebastian asked as he wheeled the cart closer. The boy just stared at him. "And it's been about me, yes?"

"I... I suppose so." Ciel grumbled and brushed his hair in front of his right eye. It was still sodden from the bath and he could sense the curls were ready to spring up.

"Can you keep a secret?" Sebastian inquired and moved to perch on the bed. Ciel glanced from his hands to his face, wondering what the demon was up to.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, eyeing his butler.

"What I mean is that I planned to inform you of something that I wish for you not to share. A secret, I believe it is called."

Ciel huffed, "I'm not stupid," he said and gathered the covers around him. "And yes, I can keep a secret. What is it?"

Sebastian slipped closer, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the shifting of fabric and the intake of a sharp breath as it was stolen from the young man.

"What are you..."

The butler was not a hair's breadth away as he whispered; "I informed the Midford's that we had caught an illness during our stay on the Campania."

"Why would you tell them that?" Ciel whispered back, backs of his knees pressing onto the bed firmly. "I have nothing of the sort." He said, ignoring the fact that his asthma had been playing havoc.

"A highly  _infectious_ illness. They, therefore, cannot visit until Easter." Sebastian concluded, pulling away and glimpsing at his master's wayward hair.

Ciel scoffed, "What has become of you?" He derided with no real bite. "That is against a butler's aesthetics, no?"

"Hmm, perhaps... but I believe that you told me earlier that I should see myself as a demon, rather than a servant." Sebastian hummed as he strode over to seize a hairbrush from the dressing room.

_Click._

"That's distasteful."

"Maybe that would be your reaction if I informed you of the activities I wish to attend to tomorrow," Sebastian said laxly, walking back to the bed to begin brushing the young Lord's hair.

Ciel couldn't help but stain rose once more as his tainted - albeit childish - mind attempted to conjure up an activity he would find 'distasteful'. "I think I know the difference between a servant and a demon now."

"That is good," Sebastian said before motioning for the boy to scoot closer. He did, moving to the edge of the mattress. "Would you like your drink while I attend to your hair?"

A nod was given and Sebastian turned to fuss around with the cart he had left beside him. He smirked as he poured out the beverage and he smiled as he handed it to the boy.

"Milk?"

"Warm milk, sir." Sebastian clarified, motioning for Ciel to pivot on the spot so he could reach the damp hair.

"But you never make me warm milk."

"I thought it would be a nice change. Is it not to your liking?" He asked innocently enough. Ciel made an unsure noise in the back of his throat but he sipped the beverage all the same.

It was warm as it slid down his throat and he couldn't bite back the content hum that left him. It tasted of memories, sliding to his stomach. The heat fanned out from his gut and he cherished the feeling of protection he had bargained his soul for.

The milk was like an embrace, twisting and coursing through his veins. Warm milk late at night was like a smile to Ciel, it was tenderness and solace and acceptance. It didn't bite or ask for anything in return. It was so rare that the boy found himself dreading the last sip, knowing that  _this_ definitely wouldn't last.

Once he had taken a few more bittersweet sips, Ciel glanced back at the man that was currently easing knots from slate locks. "You really shouldn't have lied to my Aunt. If she discovers the truth-"

"Would you rather I invite them over?" Sebastian simpered knowingly. The boy may not have been ill but he was definitely worn-out.

"Hmph... you have been rather troublesome today."

"I apologise, my Lord. Would you like me to leave you to your 'reading'?" He smirked and suffered an elbow in his stomach in retaliation.

Ciel didn't think much of the whimsical action. Well, until he realised that his butler had been sent stumbling back a few feet. The boy snapped around to face his manservant and blinked as he saw Sebastian catch himself,  _I didn't elbow him_ ** _that_** _hard... well, not hard for a demon..._

_Click._

Ruby eyes augmented before lowering in disgrace. The butler massaged his stomach gingerly as he rose up once more. The Earl didn't know quite what to say and neither did the demon.

So they didn't say anything.

Ciel disregarded the fact that he had just caused such a human reaction to spring forth from his base servant. He disregarded the fact that Sebastian had  _wheezed_ all because of some play-punch. He disregarded the fact that the thought of his demon being unprepared frightened him. Instead, he turned back around and scowled at his door, waiting until gloved hands found purchase on his head once more.

Sebastian continued to brush through boyish locks as his eyes blazed quietly. His attempts to brush off the incident had been in vain. Saying nothing had only made it worse.

So they sat in silence. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the shifting of fabric and the tense breathing of an injured servant.

 _That's why he needs a day off._ Ciel recalled before clearing his throat. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He grumbled, startling the silence out of the room.

"It is not your fault. I wasn't expecting such an action, is all." Sebastian stated evenly, keeping his emotions guarded as he tugged a knot out using the brush. "May I go over what is happening tomorrow?"

"That would be for the best."

"Well, Mr Tanaka will wake you up at the usual time tomorrow. If this does not happen then please call for me." Sebastian began, "breakfast will be served by Mey-Rin and cooked by Bard, as will all of the other meals. I can be called if the meals are not up to your standards." He continued, "Snake is happy to take you out for a ride on the horses tomorrow if you wish it and lessons will proceed as of the Tuesday after Easter so that you can focus on recovering and writing the report for her majesty." Sebastian placed the brush on a secluded bedside cabinet before he raked his hands through the freshly-brushed hair. Ciel shivered a little, mourning the final drop of milk as he sipped it meekly. "Finnian is to deliver the mail and keep the fireplaces tended to. Should you get cold, please call me."

"Stop saying that."

"Pardon, my Lord?"

"Stop telling me to call for you. I know that I can call for you but I will not. I can put up with the servant's antics for one measly day, you are not well."

Sebastian's eyes encased an unexplored emotion as he turned his master around. "How sweet of you." Was all he murmured out into the quiet of the room. He took the now empty mug from the boy's hands and placed it on the cart. "I will say goodnight now."

Ciel clambered back into his covers and shuffled into their warmth. Proficient hands worked to tuck his master in and Sebastian continued to smile, it was almost unnerving. The butler then took the anonymous book and set it on the cart as well.

He began to push the cart out, keeping his eyes on the soul under his protection. "Master?" He suddenly, impulsively, asked.

"Hmm?" Came a faint response as the half-asleep boy begrudgingly answered.

"I was just wondering, did you enjoy the bath?"

"...yes..."

"What about the meal?" He pressed, only moving backwards a tad.

"It was nice I suppose."

"And what about-"

Ciel's head protruded from the covers, "Why are you asking all of this? It is not like I am going to hire a new butler in your absence."

Sebastian's eyes shone. "There is no reason, master. Sweet dreams." He meandered before wheeling the cart out and closing the door.

The boy huffed in response, shifting under the covers and sighing laboriously as his feet touched the cold end of the bed. The thought of sleep seemed even further away now. He could tell there was just one more piece of the puzzle he was missing. One bit that would cause everything to fall into place.

This was no longer a puzzle, then. This was dominoes.

 _He suggested that I have a bath instead of a nap, he answered the questions I asked and even the ones I didn't. And then the hot milk and the interrogation_ _... what were they about?_

_Bath, dinner, bed, milk... bath, dinner, bed, milk... what a strange order. And what about the choice of drink? So strange._

_I haven't had hot milk before bed since-_

_Click_

_Oh._

The haziest of smiles curled onto his lips as Ciel dove further into the covers. Perhaps their run-in with the Undertaker had struck Sebastian more than anticipated. "What a strange demon I have employed." He hummed to himself as his eyes lowered. "He  _did_ want to prove himself. Now the bath makes sense." He murmured into the pillow as he drifted off to sleep.

•••

 _The butler drew his master closer, breaths coming out like icicles. As their boat bobbed insignificantly in the great unknown of the sea, and as they stared at a horizon they_ _may not have_ witnessed; _the butler sighed before saying; "I would prefer not to encounter a storm after this."_

_The boy hummed in agreement, overlooking the hands that clamped around his middle. Burrowing his way into his butler's coat, he felt the warmth of unseen day shine on his face. He knew that a storm would come. It always came. Because nothing good ever lasted._

_Especially when it came to Sebastian._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Got a secret, can you keep it?  
> Swear this one you'll save.  
> Better lock it in your pocket, taking this one to the grave.  
> If I show you, then I know you won't tell what I said,  
> 'Cause two can keep a secret if one of us is dead."


	8. Bad Little Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein 'Ciel' is the wrong chess piece, Sebastian is constantly insulted and it is discovered that blood is not always thicker than water...
> 
> Music: COPYCAT by Billie Eilish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Copycat trying to cop my manner,  
> Watch your back if you can't watch mine,  
> Copycat trying to cop my glamour,  
> Why so sad, bunny, you can't have mine?..

I had known that my brother would be surprised. He is more than surprised. Stunned. Dumbfounded. Dazed.

Angry.

Very, very angry. Irate, even. Perhaps I should have expected that too.

Oh well.

He has done adequately in my absence, I will admit. I was sure that he would have collapsed, fallen in the arms of our auntie or maybe traipsed his way back home with his tail between his legs. Or maybe he would have just died there with me. I'm sure Undertaker would have taken care of him as well.

The dog ruined it.

I can almost see the tongue sticking out of his mouth, head cocked and eyes lowered. Panting like the deprived mutt he is. Oh, how I loathe the thought of him touching  _my_ brother. Apparently, he had been doing plenty of that, too. Undertaker had commented many-a-time about how he blindly followed my twin around, kissing the ground he trod on.

What a pathetic canine.

He couldn't even take my soul correctly. Wasn't that all demons were good for? Other than manipulating their contractees in the most deranged ways possible. If this pet has been drooling on my little brother so openly in public, I dread to think about what he does in private.

My poor, weak, puny brother. I had done this all for him in the first place.

He had always felt so sorry for himself, floating around the manor like a ghost. He was faint enough for the job as well. Always distant from us. Always behind a pane of glass or a door. Sickness became his mother, chess his father and, I suppose, I was replaced by those teddies he cherished. How...  _adorable_.

He was always a skilled liar, though. A much better liar than me. He fibbed all the time, getting in and out of circumstances like the chess piece he was. Always moving forwards and backwards, preserving that pride of his as if it controlled him.

My brother was definitely supposed to be the queen of the board.

I had always assumed we would get on splendidly, king, queen and little Lizzie on the sidelines, watching as the men cavorted with life. Now it is backwards, twisted and mangled. My brother is the king of his own game with that pooch at his side, Lizzie has entered this contest and replaced the throne my twin should occupy.

And then there is me.

Now I am the opposing team. The enemy.

That is not right at all.

I was in that cage with him. We suffered under the hands of that cult. They burned us, they wounded us, they raped us. We were born on the same day.

We should have died on the same day.

The demon swooped in and stole my brother from my side, picking him out of the bodies like the magpie he was. My brother swooped in and stole the candy from my tummy as well, digging through me as if I was some animal.

He is angry. I know what I must do.

I stare at the gathering at the bottom of the stairs, they look a sorry state. My lips twist into something cruel; "Now, now. You should know better than galavanting around in drenched clothing in this cold weather. You're just asking for another rough bought of coughing, you know." The group are like the rain outside,  _drip, drop,_ they catch up with the situation.

Perhaps it was unfair to have a headstart.

Perhaps it had been unfair that my soul was a bargaining chip.

"But do not worry," I proceed, my heart rabbiting as I saunter to the height of the staircase. "Everything's going to be alright now. I will never leave you on your own ever again." I state and glare right at that absurdly grotesque butler. He returns the glare after the shock has dripped off of him and shattered on the floor.

The butler inches towards his master. Maybe a demon would be a useful asset after all. It would be nice to have someone running around, hopelessly fumbling with letters and teapots.

My brother doesn't truly understand how much power he has in the palm of his hand. How much he could destroy if he was as corrupt as I. How much  _we_ could do with that demon under our control.

" _Undertaker?" I had sighed, legs stretching out on the coffin._

_"Yes?" He asked, turning from the body he was prettying up. "What is it, little one?"_

_I sat up, glancing for a moment at the distorted corpse trapped in her wooden box. "Why has my brother chosen a demon over you? Surely he understands that he will only lose his soul if he doesn't rid himself of the bastard."_

_The reaper hummed, swivelling around again to delve back into the woman's stomach. "Young boys are strange. Especially young boys who have gone through so much." I watched with morbid curiosity as he drew a needle into the air, sewing the girl back up like the doll she was. "I suppose that butler is the only person he can trust."_

_"How can he trust him!? He is a devil for goodness sake!"_

_"You must understand, Lord Ciel, that although he is evil incarnate, that demon saved your brother. He would see him as a protector, a father figure... maybe even an older brother."_

_"Nonsense!" I had yelled, jumping up and jerking the lid of a coffin onto the floor. Glasses and vials smashed but the Undertaker did not stir. His hands were steady as he finished his stitching. "How can I be replaced by something as horrid as that!?"_

_"You ask the wrong questions, Phantomhive. You already know the answer to that query." The old man stated, moving away from the body with blood-tipped nails. "Sebastian Michaelis saved the little boy when you could not. Now that butler can give him everything he desires and you can bring him nothing but memories. That is why you must throw aside your possessiveness and see that you must deal with the root of the problem first. I'm sure the pretty flower will ease out after that has been taken care of."_

_I laughed haughtily, coming to stand next to my guardian. "I'll yank the flower out if I must. He will grow to see that I am the only one he can love." I turned to him, kicking his ankle with my boot. "I assume that your goals are in line with mine?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Good. I hope you are as good in the garden as you are in the morgue... we have some pruning to attend to."_

He is my brother. This is my manor. It is my ring that is sat on his thumb. It is my game of chess. My servants. My home. My future.  _My name_.

My soul. His soul belongs to me. Not that demon. I know what I must do. Kill the pawns. Kill the rooks. Kill the bishops. Kill the queen. Kill, kill, kill.

Rescue my brother. Save his soul.

He has done well to look after our family home and retain our title while I was 'recovering' from a certain disease called death. There is no need to fight him. Simply remove the roots. I'm here. I'm healthy. I'm happy...

"I'm home."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I would hate to see you go,  
> Hate to be the one that told you so.  
> You just crossed the line,  
> You've run out of time,  
> I'm so sorry, now you know,  
> Sorry, I'm the one who told you so."


	9. Give A Man A Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel complains, Sebastian misreads a soul and it is discovered that even the devil has restraint... sometimes...
> 
> Music: Hypnotic by Zella Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tied ribbons on your top hat,  
> Telling me I'm all that,  
> Just like the girls from your hometown.  
> Sweet blooded and up-stranded,  
> See if I can stand it,  
> Shrinking in the shallow water...

"You know I don't like stopping." My master sighed as we pulled into the back of an inn.

I smiled distantly and began picking up his luggage. "I am aware, my Lord but it is not good to travel for too long. We will be home tomorrow afternoon." I said and opened the door.

A gush of wind dove into the carriage but I pushed past it, attempting to keep the vehicle as still as possible as I clambered out. I nodded at the driver and he nodded back. The rain was harsh so I pulled an umbrella out of the carriage and set it up next to the door. The boy sauntered out, shoes clipping in the most obnoxious way possible. Just how I liked it.

I saw my master assess the inn from the outside, noting the goading lights and muffled chatter. I wondered if he had ever been to a pub in the evening. Surely not. "Just a warning, sir. The patrons at this establishment may be... bubbly."

"Drunk. Yes, I know." He said anyway, giving me a knowing look. There really were no eggshells with him. He sighed heavily - although it may have been a concealed yawn - before cautiously stepping forward. "Just hurry up and get me a room. I'm fed up."

"Certainly," I said smoothly and followed just behind him.

I opened the door and a burst of alcohol and laughter washed over us, making my young Lord squint. He concealed a cough as the smoke entered his lungs and red crawled down his skin as he laid his eye on the scantily-dressed women, serving gin to the tables.

Suddenly his bold steps tapered out into sporadic inches, his boots refusing to meet the ground. My placated smile dropped a little and I found myself inching closer as each individual turned to regard our entrance.

"No kids allowed." One woman droned, lips twitching down as pink melted off of them. Her eyes were heavy with colour and her body looked as if it had been squeezed into her outfit, flaps of skin oozing out of her corset.

Even my master looked better in a corset.

I glanced down at the boy and saw how his nose had scrunched up and his fists had curled in on themselves. We ignored the woman and began to make our way through the gaggle of hogs that crowded around their troths.

My mind wandered for a bit, my young Lord was a reserved creature. Subjects such as drinking and sex rarely arose. It would be considered distasteful for a butler to speak to his master about such things and personally, given my Lord's experience with intercourse, it seemed cruel to bring up something which he would forever label as painful and humiliating.

Perhaps there were a few eggs scattered at my master's feet after all.

His steps faltered as we arrived at the bar, the man behind it was nothing special. Grubby was the best way to describe him. Grubby, fat fingers to go with grubby brown eyes and a grubby smile. He glanced from myself to my Lord and a dirty laugh smacked us in the face.

"If you think I'm gonna serve a child-"

"We are here for a room." I interrupted, hoping that my height would be enough for him to scuttle off into his hole in the wall. However, his face remained smeared with satisfaction as he looked me up and down.

"Children can't stay here."

"Ah, but this  _young man_ is an Earl. And I am with him." I said quickly, hoping that I would retain his attention. "A room, please."

"We're fully booked." He grumbled out, pivoting as to hand a glass to another harlot.

I smiled contemptuously, "perhaps you could double-check."

He huffed out, noise acidic as it flew off of his tongue. His back turned on us and I almost rolled my eyes at the way his suspenders hugged his grimy frame. Did no one in this establishment have clothes that fitted them? The man grasped onto a book, turned back - as if to make a point - and flipped to what I was certain was a random page.

Not a second later, he snapped the book shut, shaking his head as he said; "we're booked." His smile was cocky as he nodded towards the door.

I placed my left hand on my charge's shoulder, gently coaxing him to turn around. He did not budge. "Come, Master. We shall find somewhere else."

"No."

I could not see his face but I was certain that a glower adorned his features.

The surrounding patrons jumped when the boy slammed his gloved hands onto the bar. "I demand a room. This is ridiculous, you didn't even check." He spat. I considered intervening but I was all too intrigued by this sudden outburst.

I was never one to interrupt a performance. Not that I didn't intervene when  _absolutely_ necessary.

"Can someone get this pricy pair out of here?" The barmaid hummed, leaning onto a support beam that looked about ready to snap.

Lord Phantomhive made a noise and I wondered for a moment if he was about to throw a temper tantrum in the middle of the pub. "Listen here you-"

"Oi!" Came another voice. Younger, brighter, more charismatic. My eyes flickered to the corner of the bar and a young man stepped forward. "What's going on here?" He questioned, moving closer.

He was a handsome fellow, early twenties, younger than me but certainly older than my master. His hair was a deep brown like the mud one would find if they went outside just after a storm. It was almost black as it reached for his roots and the curly, messy nature of the locks made him seem effortlessly casual.

The stubble he had was charming and complimented his rather thin lips. His eyes were a deep green, flickering with emotions. The soul within him was entirely forgettable but for some reason I found myself guessing that my young Lord would not be so quick to dismiss him from his memory.

The man came to stand before us, sleeves bunched up at his elbows. "Eh?"

"Hello, we were looking for a room," I jumped in before the boy began his heedless rambling. "We were told that you are fully booked."

The handsome man looked to his grubby counterpart with a frown, "Why did you tell them that?" The man searched for something to say but the other had already moved on, turning to retrieve a key from its hanger. "Here you go, room three. I'll take you there."

I smiled dolefully and stepped back so my little Lord could move from his spot at the bar. The boy straightened up and tilted his head back, nose pointing to the ceiling. He flaunted his sophistication as he floated past the other patrons.

A small stack of coins was placed on the bar. The greasy man offered no response to my jovial 'thank you' and he instead grasped at the coins, shoving them into some cavern behind him.

I was sure to pay attention to the greedy hands and eyes of the men cramped into their stalls, throwing money they did not own in the pockets of the harlots. My master seemed to not care for them, brushing their offensive looks and crude words off as if he wouldn't be spending the night in this establishment.

"So," The new man began, "Where are you gentlemen from?" He asked brashly, voice oiled and clear.

"London."

"Ah, upper-crust blokes, I assume?" He continued and was given an affirmative huff and nod from my sleepy master. "Well, I'm Jack Walters, I'm not used to dealing with the gentry but I believe I'll be the best man to look after you two." He commented as he brought us to stand before a rickety door, a nudge away from falling off its hinges. "If you need anything then just ask for me at the bar."

"Thank you, but we should be alright." My master said non-committally and gestured for me to unlock the door. I did as I was told, wrenching the wailing door open and allowing my master to step in.

He paused in the door frame before turning back and running his eyes up and down our helper's body. "Have a good night...  _Mister Walters_." He simpered, grin eating up his face. The words were painfully dragged out, each syllable seeming to take up a great deal of his time as he waded through every morpheme.

I may have even displayed a look of unadulterated - well, mainly unadulterated- shock at his way of speaking. Usually, that tone, that particular way he curated his words meant a new game was at hand.  _Battle stations_ as Bardroy would say. Battle stations indeed.

My, my, Lord Phantomhive must be in a particular mood if he wishes to commence a tryst this late at night,  _especially_ after a case. Still, if he needs anything tending to, I am more than happy to comply. Moreover, it is not as if I have much else to be doing. Inns are not exactly an environment where I thrive.

Our new friend gave a cryptic smile as a reply before disappearing down the corridor, leaving us in tenacious darkness.

I followed my Lord into the room and watched with great interest as he slung himself onto the bed. It groaned unbecomingly before settling into its unsteady position. "Mister Walters seems to have piqued your interest," I commented off-handedly, nudging the fireplace to life.

"I must admit, he does seem rather out of place here. You would probably be fighting half of this decrepit village at this moment if it were not for him."

I considered correcting him, saying that no, I had planned on stopping his hissy fit before any combat ensued, but as a Phantomhive servant, it was now my task to put my master to sleep. No matter how disagreeable he was feeling. "Come, let us put you to bed, you were falling asleep in the carriage, were you not?"

"I don't believe I was." He scoffed, turning to face the window.

"Oh?" I questioned, barely able to contain my glee. "So your head resting on my shoulder was not caused by your weariness?" The flush on his cheeks was instant, as was the grin on my face. "I am truly flattered, master, that you would show such feelings towards me."

He gave me a death-inducing glare before coughing into his clenched fist and hissing, "shut it, you dunce." His eye then moved from me to the fire, blue iris painted crimson by the flames. "I can't go to sleep now, anyway. I'm hungry."

"Hungry, is it?" I queried. Perhaps he and I were alike in that sense. Well, I have found in the years I have served this boy that we have much in common. But this declarative statement had me pausing. I must agree that rest is pushed far to the back of the mind when one is  _hungry_. Sleep and relaxation can wait. Feasting cannot. "Well, I can't have you starving, can I?" I asked playfully, giving him a smile belonging to his father. It had always coaxed out the child within Earl Phantomhive, a slight twitch of the lips, a small dimple forming in the left cheek, a subtle tilt of the head, a crinkle of the eyes.

I had spent a while perfecting that look. Sometimes in front of the mirror, sometimes on the servants. If it charmed them then it would most likely be a smile belonging to Vincent Phantomhive.

I do not doubt that my Lord would look rather like his predecessor in five years. Just as I have stared at his father's smile, projected on my face, I have also stared at the Earl and pictured him in the future.

Flirtatious yet mild. Coy yet composed. Black, charming hair to go with crisp, plum eyes. Eighteen. Probably married to the Lady Elizabeth. The Funtom company would be flourishing, reaching the apex of its success while my master enters the apex of his life. I must admit, the thought of being with a man of that calibre is tempting, but five years is too long.

As the young Lord said; how can I rest if I am hungry?

In five years my contractee may have even had children, what would become of them? Pretty eyes and handsome jaws, button noses and slender fingers, baby fat that never truly goes away, pudgy in all the right places. Once again, it is a shame that there shall be nothing left of the Phantomhive name once I am done with it.

That is all I am good at. It is all I am told to do to keep him content. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Smile like his father, love like his mother, kill like his brother. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.

It is a difficult feat when a demon is as ravenous as I. He just  _sits_  there as if he's waiting for me to make a feast out of him. Maybe he knows that. Maybe he sees right through his father's smile with the dimples and the creases and the twitch of lips.

"I will find you something to eat, sir. I shall be back momentarily." I state, standing up and bringing the suitcases further into the room. "If you wish to read, there are some novellas in here," I added, knowing that the boy would wander off if boredom gripped him for even a moment.

His mind churned through his options. He could follow me if he wanted, I had no objections. But that would mean crippling his pride and he would never allow  _that_. So he told me to hurry along and get something before he passed out and I agreed, turning to leave Room Three.

The men and women downstairs had gotten impossibly rowdier, even the music seemed to have increased in volume and tempo. Our entrance had probably boosted their excitement and they had obviously gotten more boisterous just to spite us.

Jack Walters met me with a flattering smile, the sort of smile that could make one feel like the most important person in a room, it was focused so deftly on me that I wondered if my assessment of him had been wrong. Still, the soul was a watery orange, white swirling into it as he offered me a hello and asked what I needed.

"If I may be so bold, I would ask that I could make use of your kitchen. My master is hungry and it would be a rather long night if he were to wait any longer for a meal." I said, passing him my own enrapturing smile. It seemed to do the trick, nibbling into his subconscious.

He led me behind the bar before he had even answered, "of course. We should have something for you to use. What does he like to eat?"

"I am afraid that anything containing sugar would suffice. Although, his appetite is rather... how should I put it... insatiable?" A rich, sure laugh spilt from his stubbled jaw as he patted me on the back. I chose to ignore his lingering hold and focus on finding somewhere clean enough for food to be prepared. "This is certainly... cosy."

"Erm, yeah, we usually clean up  _after_  the visitors have gone 'ome. It should still be alright to use, though. I'll get you some clean equipment." I wondered if there was actually any clean equipment for me to use, judging by the multitude of dirty spoons and greasy fish slices. How many people ate here? "If there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

It was almost infuriating how he was so willing to do anything. Perhaps that was why his soul was plain, orange, watery, just like salmon. "Is there any chance you could show me to the pantry? I am assuming you have one."

•••

Jack Walters watched me as I worked, eyes following me keenly. I am never usually one to shy away from attention but this was almost unnerving. "I believe I am almost done."

"What are you to that boy?" He questioned quite suddenly.

I turned from the oven and cocked an eyebrow. "I am his butler," I answered honestly enough. "Sorry, may I ask why you wish to know?"

He pushed his body off of the littered kitchen side and moved towards me, "I just wondered why he came with you instead of his parents. He's quite a youngin, ain't he?" I stood up at that, suddenly feeling rather defensive. He stood at a steady hundred and seventy-eight centimetres and his eyes were almost level with mine.

"I am what you would consider his 'guardian'," I confirmed, knowing he would not catch my double entendre. "His parents are not with him at the moment, as you probably noticed." Mr Walters moved closer still, his pale olive skin catching on the depressing lights hanging in the windows.

"So he would miss you if you did not return?"

"I believe he would come looking for me if I was not to reappear soon." I corrected, sensing the building tension in the room. His body moved like a mannequin, harsh yet schooled as he nudged me back against the oven. I ignored the hissing of my skin as his lips downturned. "Why, is there something  _you_  need help with?"

He grunted, head tipping back, "I have a few things that need taking care of. I wondered if you would be able to aid me." His hands palmed at my suit, palm passing over my badge.

I was used to being the seducer, being the seduced was a whole other matter.

His eyes refused to leave mine as he encaged me in his arms. "When you had offered your services, I did not realise you meant this." I murmured quietly as he pushed himself closer. "Do you do this for all your guests?"

A twin of his previous smile came back. This one was its opposite, evil and twisted, gleaming with lustful intentions. "Only the pretty ones." He assured me, shoe stepping on my foot. I glanced to the odd connection and wondered if I had time for this. The dessert I had prepared would be ready in a few minutes. If anything was to happen, it would have to happen now.

I now understood why his soul was so watery and thin. I had not delved deep enough. If I had allowed myself to drown in him sooner I would have seen the ocean floor. Dark, cold, harsh. Clearly, Mr Walters had a few skeletons in his closet. "While I am flattered by your proposal," I began, "I already have a child pining for my attention. I hardly need another."

He bristled at the insult, veiling his dejection quite impressively. "Very well, I see your priorities are elsewhere." He said and pushed himself off of me, "I know when I am not wanted. I am not a  _whore_  after all." He sneered, giving me one last sweep before turning on the balls of his feet to step towards the doorframe. "I really hope he is not pining for the same attention as me... old man." He showed no shame, nor regret, only that smile once again. This time, however, I was not sure which of the twins it was. "You have a nice night." He stated and waved to me before leaving.

Once he had left me alone, I turned back to the oven, pulled the slightly over-crisp pudding out and began to plate it up. "I have taught you better than to sneak around, no?" I asked into the window as  _he_  crouched in the corner. The boy huffed before tumbling out of a floor-standing cupboard.

"How did you know I was here?" My master asked bitterly.

"I always know where you are." I reminded him and handed him the warmed plate. "You are lucky that you are still getting this at all, what would have happened if you had seen something?"

He laughed spitefully, grabbing the fork out of my hand. "You shouldn't have been flirting with a man in the kitchen in the first place. And besides," he paused to take a large chunk of the cake, "the noises in the room next to us were a lot cruder than your offer to 'aid' Mr Walters. Oh, and, I do not  _pine_ for your attention."

I sighed. He had clearly not understood what I was trying to say. I turned him around, even though he still had the fork in his mouth. "Come on, let us head back upstairs."

We passed the grumpy patrons, glares following us like ghosts before we started trekking upstairs. The boy had something to say, I could tell.

"If..." He began before tapering off. It seemed that his voice was like his gait, confident until he wasn't. "Would you have done anything if I was not in the room?" He said as if the words tasted sour on his tongue.

I continued to nudge him towards our room, "rest assured, your food would have not been allowed to burn."

"That's not what I... ugh, forget it." He grumbled, shoving himself into the door and gliding in. "Just get me ready for bed," he instructed and I chose to ignore the red washing over his cheeks as the noises in the next room persisted.

And while he heard the desperate grunts and wanton wails next door, all I could hear were the eggshells cracking around him as he thought and rethought about my encounter with Mister Walters.

He may have wondered what would have happened if he was not there but I wondered what would have happened if I had indulged while he  _was_  there, greedy eyes watching from the cupboard. No doubt I would have got a small appetiser, a hint of what he would be like in a few years.

I guess he won't allow me to unwind until my stomach is full.

How alike we are.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I don't wanna come back down,  
> I don't wanna touch the ground,  
> Pacific Ocean, dug so deep,  
> Hypnotic taking over me."


	10. La vita va avanti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel is haunted by an old friend, Sebastian doesn't appreciate maintaining his master's hairstyle and it is discovered that Edward should really keep his mouth shut.
> 
> Music: LIFEGOESON by Noah and the Whale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N.  
> What you don't have now will come back again  
> You've got heart and you're going your own way...

"Sometimes I wish that there  _were_ no classes and I could just... be." Ciel Phantomhive sighed and sunk into his chair. "Then I wouldn't have to come to these menial occasions."

Sebastian stood by the balcony door, watching as the autumnal breeze wafted through his master's styled hair. "They wouldn't be menial if you looked past the dances and saw the people attending."

"All people who attend balls of their own volition are not worth my time." He scoffed, pushing his feet out of the gaps in the concrete railing. "They're too boring to commit a crime."

"The viscount Druitt seemed to hold many a party and he's been known to cause a little more than a scandal." Sebastian reminded him, resisting the urge to re-apply the wax he had put on his master's hair earlier.

Ciel hummed in his throat, drawing his hands into his lap as he watched the day sink into the west of Europe. "He's a  _host._ Hosts are different. They're charismatic, leaders, socialites. Hosts are worth my time."

"Then why not go and speak to the host of this party? In the clipped conversation the pair of you had, he seemed to take a liking to you." Sebastian said easily, finally approaching to deal with the mess that was Lord Phantomhive's hair.

The boy turned when he heard his butler stepping closer and rolled his eyes when a small tub of hair wax was removed from the demon's pocket. "You're always prepared, eh?" A dimple-inducing smile formed on the servant's lips as he bent over to attend to his master's unruly locks. "I think this is one of the only times I wish I was part of the working class." The boy commented.

"How ungrateful my master is."

"I'm not ungrateful. Just... aware that while I'm out here uselessly waltzing around the place, thousands of workers are in bed, asleep." He explained, watching as the man lathered wax onto his now bare fingertips.

"May I?" Sebastian asked and was given an affirmative nod. "Anyhow," he continued as he began to mould the hair into place. "As an Earl, it is your duty to attend these  _menial_ occasions, no matter what you think of them. The lady Elizabeth seemed pleased to see you."

"Ugh, I forgot about Elizabeth. I promised her another dance." Ciel huffed and readjusted his eyepatch. "She will be looking for me soon. Although I wonder why she wishes to dance with me again, the last time was abhorrent."

Sebastian swallowed down a laugh as he finished off his task. "I doubt anyone noticed your trip." 

"You did."

"But as you said, those who attend balls of their own volition are not worth your time, so what have you to worry about?" He questioned, pulled out a handkerchief and began to wipe the remnants of the wax off of his right hand.

"You can hardly talk, you just stand at the side of the hall. It's not like you've ever been in my position." The boy spat, pushing his chair out as he made to stand up. Although his words did not disagree with Ciel's statement, Sebastian's expression surely did. "Have you?"

"Not exactly... not at a party, you would ever attend." The butler commented, straightening his lapels and readjusting his tie. "Not a party any of the guests here would attend."

"Do you mean a party on Earth or somewhere... else?" The child asked cautiously, knowing that he was tapering into dangerous territory.

"Else."

The boy huffed... and then he laughed. "Are you going to tell me it was 'one hell' of a party?" He jested, slipping his foot into his boot more comfortably as he made to move.

"That was one way to describe it." Sebastian all but muttered as he began to follow his lord out of the balcony.

The demon had never really given Ciel much information about where he came from and what demons were exactly. And when he did, they were just scraps that barely made any sense at all. 'We do have pets in hell, but they are nothing like cats', 'demons can sleep but do not require it', 'it is all part of the demon aesthetic, you see'. To the young human, none of it made coherent sense.

If demons had pets, did they have homes? If demons did not require sleep would they forever be awake if given the chance? If demons had 'aesthetics' did they speak to one another often? Did they share their techniques of seduction and manipulation? Would Sebastian boast of his meal once the earl's soul had been consumed?

Did Sebastian have a family?

Surely not. For a child with no family to find out that a  _demon_ of all things had a stronger hereditary attachment than him? He would surely feel too sorry for himself.

But as Aquinas once said; everything that exists must be caused by something else. His demon  _must_ have been 'caused' by something. So was everything that had occurred, every contract Sebastian had made and every day in that deplorable cage, just endless causes and effects that led up to their inevitable meeting and soon, their inevitable separation?

If that was the case, then was Sebastian Ciel's final cause (since he would end the child's life)? Or was he his first cause (since he gave the boy another chance  _to_ live)? Or was he both?

Too many questions buzzed through the boy's mind as he wandered his way back into the ballroom. Damn that demon, he thought, all that the creature had said was 'else' and it had managed to send him into a spiral of rhetorical questions and philosophical debates.

"I will be by the staircase should you need me," Sebastian commented lightly, leaning so his head was level with his master's. Ciel nodded and began to search for someone else to speak to.

"Oh, I say, what a handsome outfit you are wearing, Lord Phantomhive." Came a thick baritone of a voice. It was low, and gaudy, and sent shivers up Ciel's spine. He spun on his heels to meet the speaker but found any usual reply lodged in his throat.

"Mr Vanel... I am surprised to see you here."

A grand laugh slapped the boy in the face as the Italian dragged him into a tight embrace. "I have not seen you in a while, little Phantomhive. It is good to speak to you once more."

Ciel flushed and awkwardly patted him on the back. "You are well, I assume." He said with the confidence of a vole. He could already feel his teeth grinding away, he preferred eating tension to bathing in it.

"I cannot complain." The man smiled, shrugging his shoulders in an admittedly charming way. "I mean, the business has been struggling a small bit but it is nothing I cannot deal with."

 _You can deal with a lot, clearly._ Ciel thought as he scanned the room for Sebastian. He was hovering about the staircase as promised, although his attention seemed to be elsewhere as he easily socialised with other guests.  _No one here is worth my time._

"You know..." the man continued, slinging an arm around the Earl's shoulder and dragging him towards his chest, "you didn't hear it from me, but in one of the reception rooms, some of the nobles are indulging in...  _substances_." He whispered. "You may want to go there and confiscate their toys."

Everything in Ciel's mind told him that Vanel was lying. How could he trust this man? And why would he share that information with  _Lord Phantomhive_ of all people? It was so suspicious, it was almost unbelievable. Almost. "Mr Vanel. I must admit that I am shocked at your light-hearted nature. Surely due to recent events, you should not be acting so... jovial."

Vanel released the boy with a dejected look on his face. His smile was lowered and his kind features turned gloomy, loss flickering behind his eyes. "While the death of my son, Azzurro, was a tragic affair, la vita va avanti, eh?" He smacked the boy on the back, causing him to lurch forward.

Mr Vanel began laughing again, slowly gathering his glee, smashed as it was.

"One must learn to do that in life. You have suffered much worse losses than me. I cannot imagine losing everyone I hold dear.  _You_ , my Lord, taught me that I must lift up my head and march on."

"...right." The English noble said unsurely, understanding that the man must not realise that his son's murderer stood before him, dressed in a 'handsome outfit'.

'La vita va avanti'. It wouldn't, though. Not for Ciel. Life revolved around his revenge. Life  _was_ his revenge.

And yet, as he smiled forcefully at another distasteful joke made by Mr Vanel, he wondered what he would have done if life did go on.

A hand wrapping itself around his arm caught his attention and he was greeted with a smiley, albeit placated, Elizabeth. "Hello, Ciel." She said cheerfully, coming to stand in a triangle with the boy and the Italian.

"And who might this lovely young lady be?" Vanel questioned, giving Ciel a raised eyebrow.

"This is my betrothed, Lady Elizabeth Cordelia Middleford. This is Mr Mateo Vanel, a business partner of mine." He said, voice tapering off a little as he saw a look flare in the man's eyes.

It wasn't a particular look. Not one he'd exactly seen before. But it was the  _type_ of look, the masked surprise, the devious intent. The young Earl watched them exchange pleasantries and then watched them converse before him.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, though he did not know why. He turned from their conversation, ripping a corner from their triangle as he glanced at the other guests.

There was a shiftiness about the room that the boy had not noticed before. The guests moved like clockwork, dancing like dolls, conversing like puppets...  _held up by a string._

It was odd. Rehearsed.  _Staged._

"Ah! Edward, do come over!" Elizabeth called across the hall as an awkward-looking Edward wandered out from a corridor. The boy strode over, hands shoved in pockets as if he was not at a dance at all. "Mr Vanel was telling me that he has fenced with father. Isn't that wonderful?"

Edward was a clumsy child. But strangely graceful, with a sophistication that made him undoubtedly noble. Although he would never admit it, Master Midford held his cousin in high regard. He often found himself staring at the Earl, wondering if he would ever fill a personality that big.

Edward Midford didn't fit into the gentry. No one minded, though.

"How interesting..." He said, cheeks on the verge of turning red and nails biting into his palms. "Erm, Ciel... could I speak to you?"

"Of course." The Earl said surely, encouraged by the boy's reluctance to speak. "I wanted to get something to drink anyway." He turned to the duo stood behind him, "I'll be back in a minute, Elizabeth. I believe I offered you a dance." She clapped merrily and nodded her head. "It has been nice to speak to you, Mr Vanel. I hope to see you soon."

"Ciel." Edward hissed when they had made it to the mouth of a darkened hallway. "Someone wishes to kill you."

The boy wanted to roll his eyes, ask his cousin  _what's new?_ But the shiftiness of the child paired with his obvious festering anxiety prevented the Earl from scoffing. "Do you know who?"

"Well... no, not exactly," Edward said, hands still glued into his pockets. "I just heard someone."

"Edward. There is not much I can do about that. Do not worry about me, I will be fine. Just go to your parents and try to forget-"

"How can you say that!?" The boy implored, fierce green eyes finally waking up. "Did you not understand what I said?"

"I understood you perfectly but what would you have me do? Stand in the centre of the hall and ask who's plotting against me?"

"Leave!" The Midford boy pleaded, "right now!"

"I cannot leave right now, Edward. It is pivotal that I am here, I have a reputation to uphold." The Earl said, barely containing his scoff. His cousin gaped at him, shock unconcealed. "I have told you I will be fine and that is that."

"How can you be so... so... careless!?"

"Because I am not a child." The Phantomhive boy spat, shoving himself off of the wall and stepping into the ballroom. A new piece had just begun, shrill violins and greasy trombones concealing how unnerved the Earl was growing to be.

Edward stormed forward, hands finally freeing themselves from the confines of his trousers as he moved to grab his brother-in-law's arm. He was stopped, though, when a calloused palm held fast onto his twig-of-wrist.

He melted into the wallpaper as he glanced up at the figure looming over him, concealed by the nipping shadows. "Ciel!" He called to his retreating cousin, the dizzying crescendo of the music blocking out his pleas.

The world whirled into black when a meaty arm jammed him into the wall, head clipping on a doorframe.

"I'll be fine, Edward." The Phantomhive boy called over his shoulder calmly as he continued to walk away. He didn't turn back to see his cousin, he simply said; "don't worry about me."

•••

The night sky was fresh and melancholy. The wind sailed on a boat of stars and canons of dust billowed out into the ocean of black. Elizabeth pretended she was cold. Ciel pretended he didn't know she wasn't.

They strolled silently up a mountain of gravelled paths, rolling into the far distance. "Here, take this," Ciel said softly, removing his jacket and placing it on his greedy fiancé. She settled into the warmth and his arms as she allowed herself to  _dream._ "You'll catch your death otherwise."

The girl hummed, allowing herself to be led towards a set of benches. She focused on the heady scent of Ciel rather than where he would take her.

She appraised his outfit, similar to her own. Deep, dark, obtrusive blue. Sebastian had chosen the clothes this time. She wasn't usually a fan of the butler's style, it was too progressive for her tastes but Ciel's slicked-back hair made something flutter in her stomach. So much so that she had decided while they were dancing together that she would demand he wears his hair like this more often.

A hand not-so-subtly slid around her shoulder, although she mused that it would have been more comfortable for Ciel if he had done it at her waist.

They were the same height after all.

Anyhow, she did not mind much since it meant she could see right through his willowy blue eye, right through the window, right into his soul. Every time she spent the day with him she would mourn the death of that second eye. She would pray in the evenings for him, hoping that he was doing the same for her.

"You're too good to me." Elizabeth sighed out into the doleful evening sky. "I don't deserve you." She snapped her head around when a chuckle came from her cousin. "What's so funny about that?"

"Oh, do not take offence, Lizzy. I was simply surprised that you would say that." The boy explained, pausing at a grand water fountain. It was silent, just as the whole estate was.

"And why's that?" She asked as she was guided to perch on the edge of the fountain, so close to her beloved that her cheeks tinted rose.

"Because," He murmured, leaning in ever so slightly. "Those were my sentiments exactly." A smile broke out on his face and the poor girl feared that she would topple into the water. She would surely drown from embarrassment.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew it was a trick. A damned trick. This wasn't her cousin speaking, it was her betrothed. The man Ciel knew she wanted. She felt guilty. And selfish. And idiotic. That little part of her harboured so much malice for that charming eye, wanting to poke it out.

How dare you? How dare you look at me like that? Like you want me. As if you love me. As if you're  _in_  love with me.

But as he leaned closer, lips aimed and ready to fire, she was desperate to dive in, knowing that this was the emptiness she would feel forever. Elizabeth knew that he would attempt to fill the cavity gnawing in her heart with children and presents and parties.

He should walk away, she thought bitterly, he should leave right now. Because his heart did not belong to her.

His love was empty.

"Ciel, I-"

"Young Master." Came a thundering call, smashing the frail glass of the situation. Ciel pulled away immediately, showing no signs of remorse or embarrassment.

She stayed stuck in the same position for a while, halfway between slapping the butler and thanking him. "What is it?" The Earl asked, intently following every move his servant made.

"Lady Francis requires your assistance."

"What? How come?"

"It is the master Edward, my Lord. He is missing."

•••

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...On my last night on Earth, I won't look to the sky  
> Just breathe in the air and blink in the light  
> On my last night on Earth, I'll pay a high price  
> to have no regrets and be done with my life."


	11. Over the Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel waits for dinner, Sebastian reads too much and it is discovered that the funniest clowns are those that are living.
> 
> Song: Death of a clown by The Kinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My makeup is dry and it cracks 'round my chin,  
> I'm drowning my sorrows in whiskey and gin.  
> The lion tamer's whip doesn't crack anymore,  
> The lions they won't fight and the tigers won't roar...

I cannot help but feel that I am misused by my master.

He is odd. An enigma. While my primary use to a ten-year-old boy should have been to comfort and support him, instead, he wishes for me to grant his foolish requests of murder and revenge.

He mourns his family silently. He cries himself to sleep silently. He wishes for his life to end silently.

But when it comes to his nightmares... oh how he wails.

I had never seen him break down in the face of danger, or death, or loss. Yet, the tragic story of a corrupted circus troupe managed to draw him to his knees.

And although this is progress, and although it made my hunger swell, I cannot shake the feeling that I am not the one  _causing_ the pain, I am the one  _soothing_ it.

While I can handle comfort most of the time, his way of drawing it out of me when I least expect it is definitely foolish and certainly weak. He has never asked me to cradle him close in my arms or kneel by his bed as he falls asleep but I have. Every time.

As I look down at his slumbering form and slowly glide my fingers through his hair, I find myself feeling human. His face contorts, then relaxes as he pushes his head further into my palm, startling me into moving closer.

I watch with severed interest as his own bawled up fists slowly search for something to hold onto. I let him grip onto my sleeve.

It is strange how he is so different whilst unconscious. This is the real him, I am sure of it.

_This_ is what he should have asked of me when we met, yes I would have scoffed at his request and yes I would have never shown him this kindness but at least it would give me a  _reason_ to distance myself from him.

I wonder what I am like when I am asleep.

His head pushes further forward and his eyes squeeze shut. I pause, remembering who I am and what I am doing and who I am doing it to.

I pull away, only slightly guilty as he makes a noise akin to mourning.  _Mother. Father. I have been taken by the devil._

Standing up, I make my way out of his temporary quarters. His dressing room is demolished. Along with the kitchen and the foyer and one of the upper windows. There are guns to be reloaded and statues to be replaced.

The manor is such a mess, but it doesn't compare to the mess that my own soul is in at the moment. I feel it sinking, searching for one of its brethren to snatch up.

I almost jump out of my skin when I hear Lady Elizabeth ask me something. I turn and regard her with a sorry look.

"I beg your pardon miss Elizabeth, what was it you said?"

"I was just wondering how Ciel is doing, you just came from his room, no?" She asks, eyes bejewelled in an attempt to come across as charming.

I feel like telling her the truth.  _Ciel Phantomhive is dead, I feel his rotten soul wriggling around in my body, squirming for a way out._ "He has seen better days."

"Will he be alright?"

"I'm sure he will. He is sleeping at the moment but you can visit him once he is awake."

"What's wrong with him?"

_So many questions._

"He has come down with something, nothing you need worry about," I assure her, slowly walking her to her room.

"But I do worry about him. He works too hard and for too long. Won't you tell him to calm down?"

_You think he'd listen to me?_ I pause, she steps forward just a little more before pausing too. "While your kindness is noted, Miss, I'm afraid that the young master has certain tasks that he  _must_ fulfil. Please try to understand."

"Oh, I do understand, Sebastian. It's just... couldn't you... couldn't  _someone_ do some of the work for him? Is that too much to ask?"

"Unfortunately, it is his cross to bear."  _Not that you'd understand anything about responsibilities._ "And bear it he does. That is not to say that you cannot help by allowing him to work during the day so he does not have to stay up late or wake up early."

She blushed and I was becoming rather tired of the whole farce. I eagerly hurried her into her room, telling the girl that he would fine tomorrow morning and that she should get some sleep.

••• Four Days Later •••

_Hello,_   
_I should really get a new book at some point. I feel like the pages are running out and I don't want to be stuck without anything to write on. Doll said that there were a couple of shops nearby that I could get some stuff like tht from._

_Dagger's been ~~annoying~~ fussing over his leg for the past four days and Doc is beginning to think he should just make him a new one. _

_Also, weve just been past blackpool and we got to pick up some ~~souvne soveirs~~ ~~souve~~ gifts for each other. I even sent father a teddy bear for the playroom back in the orphanage. _   
_I'm a wee bit tired today but we arent performing anyway. I definitely think_

"What is that you're reading?" Asked the slight blonde who stood at his station, mashing potatoes as ordered. "It looks mighty interesting."

Sebastian closed the book, leaving his thumb in between pages as he offered a smile. "A bit of light reading is all." He said, "nothing you need concern yourself with."

"Is it a cookbook?"

"No. Now, how are those potatoes coming along?" Sebastian asked, slipping the mangled diary into his apron pocket and moving over to aid the perspiring boy.

"Fantastic! They're as smooth as stone!" He chirped jovially, thrusting a clenched fist into the air. The butler attempted not to wince as a thick glob of mash splattered onto the kitchen side, dropping into the pile of carrot peel.

"Very good." He praised anyway, gently tugging the dangling utensil out of the gardener's hand. "How about you go and check on Mey-Rin? I fear she may need some help retrieving the crockery."

The sixteen-year-old nodded, smoky green eyes beaming as he grinned. "Right you are Mister Sebastian!" He cheered, saluting before he exited the kitchen, walking as if he had a stick shoved down the back of his shirt.

Sebastian watched momentarily before sauntering back over to the corner of the room. Picking the notebook up, he flicked from the menial entry to the date he and his master entered the troop.

_Heya,_   
_Blimey! What a day!_

_Beast was still refusing to cooperate this morning and she managed to get into another fight with snake. I don't have it in my hart to tell the poor sod that his snakes should be kept locked away all day. I really don't want to speak to father, though. We're almost done._

_Anyway. The gentleman came back today and the visitor I had been anticepaating came with him. When I agreed to take on another member, I didn't mean a kid._   
_They're a skilled pair though, the kid- Finnian (smile) could throw so far I was sure he had help. I wonder how he and the gentleman (Black) will fare against Suit. He's pretty good too._

_We had a couple of peelers looking around the show the other day, I hadn't recognised them. Peter pointed them out to me and it's making us all anxious._

_I know we can't stop now, anyway._   
_Mally spoke to me about leaving again. I don't know why she doesn't get it. I don't know why_

"Who's a hypocrite now?" A gritty voice quipped as the lean form of Bardroy lay slack against the wall. "Look at you getting all cozy in the corner."

"You must be mistaken, my dear chef. Unlike you, I have my tasks  _under control._ Chop, chop, I believe you have a dinner to serve."

The cook grumbled under his breath before stepping over to where the pots and pans whistled helplessly. "Sure." He muttered.

_I don't know why she doesn't get it. I don't know why she never listens to what I say. It feels as if she wants me to forget about everything that we've been working for, all the stuff we have done and people we have helped. She can be as foolish as me sometimes._

_It is just what I have to deal with now. What we all have to deal with now._

_Oh well, I cannot really blame her, what we are doing can be difficult to understand. But in the end, it will all be okay. It has to be._

_I'll speak to you soon,_

_Joker_

"How is everything coming along?" Sebastian asked as he shut the diary again, watching as Bardroy's gammon-like hands attempted to fiddle with various stick-thin utensils. "I'll take over." 

"But you just said-"

"Never mind what I just said. I am now  _saying_ that I'll take over." The butler replied, watching as the 'chef' handed over his duties. "How about you go and check that I've set the table correctly."

"Obviously you've set the table correctly, you're Sebastian."

"Perhaps today is the day I have not. Run along now." He drawled, smiling even as the chef nearly glared at him.

Sebastian edged his way over to the food, carelessly flipping to a page written for the next day. He began plating up the dish with as much precision as usual. Only this time he read the words as he did so.

_Hello,_   
_It was Black and smiles first official day as part of the circus. The crew were excited, well, most of the crew were excited. Even if we had to leave last night again._

_I would love to trust them, but Snake came to us saying that he caught them sneaking around_

"Yada, yada, yada... doesn't trust us... asthma... leaving..." Sebastian mumbled to himself as he scoured the pages, eyes flicking from book to dish. "Ah. Here we are."

_I am at father's currently. I bought a new book on my way here. When this is all over with I'll begin writing in it._

_Ciel Phantomhive will be arriving soon. God, I can't believe smile would do that to us. And black too... I should have known. He was so talented, it was ~~obious~~ obvious._

_I have been tempted to beg father to let me go and warn the others. It's no use anyway. ~~They'll be fine.~~ ~~I'll be fine.~~ Everything will be fine._

_My hands been hurting. I need to speak to doc again when I get back. Which will be soon. It has to be._

_I'm being called now. The Phantomhive runt and his butler will be here soon, he's the last piece that father needs. I feel bad, I do. But he lied to us and I'm doing this for the kids at the workhouse and for myself and for Mally and doll and all the others._

_I'll speak to you soon,_

_Joker_

Slowly placing the book on the counter, the butler lifted a sepia photograph from the page. Baron Kelvin (or what was left of Baron Kelvin) grinned down the lens. Even with the bandages and editing, Sebastian could feel the soul radiating from within him.

If only he could have destroyed it on the first day as he did the others. He would have squished it between a taloned finger and thumb, ripping into the acrid essence of the 'philanthropist'.

Still, his master destroying the baron alone was much more satisfying. Everything was so messy and unpracticed when it came to the boy, it was always new, unexplored.  _Intriguing_  to watch.

Then there was Joker. He stood next to his 'father' with a strained smile tugging at his lips. Uncomfortable, unsure, uneasy... unappealing. What a strange human he was. His morals were twisted but he was convinced he was right. Always.

Destroying him was menial and felt more like a chore than a pleasure. Oh well, dead clowns truly are not as fun. But it wasn't just the ringleader that had perished. All those mindless children and the mindless troop and the mindless baron with his mindless puppets.

With all the stupidity it was no wonder the young lord had almost gone insane.

Tucking book and picture into his pocket, Sebastian finished off the plating and moved to place everything on the cart.

He heard the rumbling roar of footsteps as the other servants- excluding Tanaka- crashed their way into the kitchen.

"Oh Mister Sebastian, it was  _awful-"_ Finnian wept and moved to grab onto his instructor's apron. "I didn't mean to-"

A constant string of explanations and excuses filled the room until it was bursting at the seams with noise. He couldn't complain too much. Not really.

They  _had_ protected the manor and Elizabeth well and he knew that for humans it was not in their nature to kill strangers without at least being  _told_ to. They had shown their worth, their  _loyalty._ And if the consequences of hiring such people meant that there were spillages and breakages, so be it.

After the last apology was spluttered out and the three humans waited for their verdict, Sebastian broke out into a smile and patted the two males on their shoulders whilst looking at Mey-Rin. "It's alright. I'll sort it out. Just... go and wait in the corner for further instructions." He said smoothly, watching as Bard's eyebrows scrunched into a ball.

"Huh... for real?" He asked sceptically as if he had expected Sebastian to turn and spit in his eye. "Sure. We can... we can do that." He said and looked at the others.

Sebastian smiled distantly and ushered the trio into his favourite corner before pushing the trolley out of the room and towards where he would take his master in a few moments.

•••

Sebastian found the servants playing cards in the kitchen when he returned from putting Ciel to bed. Tanaka was the only one sitting on his chair properly, though. For Bard had chosen to sit on it backwards, Mey-Rin had spun it so it was sideways and Finnian had deemed it necessary to perch on the _table._

"Mr Sebastian!" Finnian cheered, "Come join our game." He pleaded and Sebastian watched as the four humans turned expectantly towards him.

He considered refusing, the idea of their dejected expressions was more satisfying than fulfilling their wishes. But alas, he had no excuse. The young master had settled down quickly, his nightmares dispersing over the previous few nights. And everything that could be dealt with today had been. The manor had been fixed since the circus troupe's visit as well. "Alright." He sighed, "but we should not stay up too late."

The gardener nodded vehemently, grabbing the pack of cards and handing it to Bard who shuffled it. "Want a drink?" He asked, watching as the butler fluidly sank into a chair.

"I shouldn't."

"Come on, man." He said, "you never have anything to drink. I'm starting to think you  _don't_ drink." He said with a hint of suspicion.

Sebastian blinked. And then sighed again. Today had been long and tedious. He just wanted to read through the night. "Fine." He said, "But not too much."

The smile crept up Bard's face as he slid off of his chair and turned to the glasses.

"You all did well today," Sebastian commented as he glanced at his cards and began assessing the other player's expressions.

Bard turned around, dumbfounded, "Pardon?"

"The four of you have done well today," Sebastian repeated. "Finny managed to weed the hedge maze. All of it."

Finnian grinned and nodded. "I did! I had to go out super early this morning too." He boasted and glanced at Bard.

"Mey-Rin. You didn't break a single thing today and you used all products as they are intended to be used." He complimented and watched as the blush overtook the young woman.

"Oh you're too kind, Sebastian sir. I was only doing my job." She said bashfully, thumbing the cards that sat in her hand.

"Tanaka aided the young master when he couldn't find the book he wanted in the library."

Tanaka simply inclined his head and held his cards close to his chest.

"And Bardroy. You managed to make the Victora sponge correctly for the first time, which is definitely progress." Sebastian finished, glancing at the way Bard paused in his drink pouring.

"Thanks..." he replied slowly, voice still filled with suspicion. "What has you in such a good mood?" He then asked, handing his supervisor the tumbler. 

"Oh... nothing..." Sebastian sighed as he reordered the cards in his hand. "He just shouldn't have bought another diary."

"Who shouldn't have?" Bard asked.

Sebastian ignored him and instead raised his glass into the air, "a toast." he said and waited for the four to fumble with their cards and thrust their glasses of gin, milk and tea into the air. "To the manor, our Lord's health and the circus troupe. Cheers."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So let's all drink to the death of a clown,  
> Won't someone help me to break up this crown?  
> Let's all drink to the death of a clown."
> 
> A/N: Happy new year everybody! Thanks for reading the first third of this collection of canon-ish drabbles. Since it was my first time writing Bard, I had to choose whether he would speak in American English or British English (which I write in being English and all) I went with American and spent the whole time worrying that I was missing out extra 'z's. Alas, cosy isn't spelt cosy in America. The more you know, I guess.


	12. Be My Disciple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ciel doesn't want to get out of bed, Sebastian practices self-control and it is discovered that even demons can have a God complex...
> 
> Music: Ladybird by The Rigs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Only want me when your armour's torn,  
> But the longing keeps me at your door,  
> Find me waiting...

I push and push and push. Gently, though for his bones break far too easily. "Brooding over your fears and regrets, curled up in your blanket, is not what you should be doing right now... come... get out of bed," I say, hoping it will evoke  _some_ kind of reaction. Some hint of the boy that I know.

His eyes stay blank, his lips stay parted, he continues to cower away from me. Who is this child? This insignificant little brat? Scared? Of me?

My master isn't scared of anyone, especially not  _me._

He would laugh, oh how he would laugh. Snort right in my face. I am a  _demon_ and yet he laughed.

He is not laughing now. "N...no!" He weeps instead, fingers curling in his sheets as he attempts to sink lower. I catch the terror as it flickers in his eyes, I watch as his determination wavers and salt slips to his lap.

"Oh?" I ask, webs of venom sticking to my tongue. "Well. You will abandon your position as the Queen's watchdog then?"

He doesn't answer.

_He doesn't answer._

Have I broken him? Is this my fault? Did I put him in harm's way too often? Had I cracked his fragile state of mind? He doesn't answer me, he doesn't want to, he doesn't dare. "Very well." I spit and hear him sucker in a breath. The claws dig into my fingertips, I can feel them threatening to break through, the fangs press at my gums, I feel my silhouette stretching and tugging at me.

Absolve the contract.

That is what I must do.

My body is calling me, my nature is taking over. He is not worthy, it says. He has given up, it hisses. But still, I feel myself hoping that the boy would go back to how he was  _before_ the disease had overtaken him,  _before_  Miss Sieglinde had cured him.

I grew too confident, my pushes became shoves. I left him alone far too often. He is a boy. A child! So weak and precious in the eyes of the world. Of course he would be destroyed as soon as the chance arose. He is the boy who has beaten death far too many times and the universe wishes to catch up with him.

Oh, master. If only you would get out of bed. I can make you stronger than any human. More powerful than any being. As long as you let me.

But I can't.

He has broken the contract and now I must take his soul.

How dull.

How boring.

How  _normal._

"No one will blame you for not wanting that forever. The servants will surely treat you well." I hum, voice snapping into something deeper. "However." I snarl, talons and fangs and silhouettes emerging. "Abandoning your revenge mid-way is against the contract."

The ink drapes over the bed frame as I hoist him up into the air. So terrified, as he stares at me.  _Am I going to die?_ Plays over and over in his head.  _Is this it?_

No, master! I plead, it is only over if you do not wake from this spell. Tell me to do something, anything. "What an utterly boring end." I spit, anger beginning to flood through me. I grab his cheeks as he is suspended in the air, careful not to snap or break anything. If I hurt him there will be  _no_ chance that he will go back. "I feel sorry for all the people that became a victim of your boring existence." I continue, voice something even I barely recognise.

Madam Red haunts him as I speak, the phantoms of all he has killed washing over his conscience.

His whimpers and groans stifle the air, tangling in with my tendrils, begging me to stop.  _Speak! Say something!_

"Since you're going to be disappearing now anyway..." I begin, feeling as his sigil sinks under the web of black. "It is not as if you care."

But although I loathe to admit it, I do.

I am a selfish demon, a creature borne of lust and greed. The damned and broken attract my attention, coax out an entity I forget that I am, under it all. It is not sympathy or love, it is an all-consuming longing.

I can make it better, if only they'd let me. If only they'd trust me. If only they'd give themselves freely to me.

They do it to their  _gods_ so easily, so why not me? I am  _much_ more reliable and I ask not that they pray or beg (usually). Yes, the price is higher but the rewards are so much more delicious. I am not chained by benevolence or love, I can do and be  _anything_.

So speak my Lord, and use my powers as they were intended to be used. "It was not what I was hoping for but... it might fill me up a bit." I groan and grasp at him, knowing that this is not the place nor the time to consume his soul. In a foreign land, in a foreign room.

Does it matter though, really?

His soul flutters within him, scrambling to escape from its inevitable end. Let me in. Trust me. Give yourself freely to me.

I am so much better than the gods you prayed to. Who saved you from that cage? Not God or Jesus or fairies that dance in forests. Was it your mother? Your father? Your  _brother?_ Even all the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men didn't save you.

It was  _me. I did._ Don't I deserve  _more?_

I tap into his thoughts as I attempt to goad him into coming back to me. I know not what he sees but I can hear his brother speaking to him, in his subconscious. It is distant to me... thinly veiled by his soul. "Have you decided?" His brother asks, "to stay here forever."

My master answers not.

"You're so silly." He says in a sultry, mean way. "No one asked you to take revenge." He whispers and his voice curdles in with my master's thoughts.

"I know." My master replies. Weak, wafting around, dying on the wind.

"If you know, why do you seek revenge?" The dead boy asks, as if he would have not done the exact same thing as his brother. He would be a fool not to take my hand. "With the power you gained sacrificing me."

Oh, his brother is harsh and cold. There is no fire in his bones. Ice. An icy child pushing his brother to give up. I wonder what he will say next.

"Because you made that choice."

_He did._

"Many people were sacrificed."

_They were._

They all ask the question. Madam Red and Joker and Ciel; "was it for me?"

No. It wasn't.

"I know." Rachel Phantomhive's voice cuts in, stronger than I ever imagined it, yet delicate. As if it could snap under any pressure. "You wanted revenge for us, didn't you?"

"No!" He shouts.

Is he coming back to me?

"Then why..." I begin, eyes burning brighter than ever, "is it that you made such a great sacrifice with even that soul of yours at stake..." I continue, watching as his eyes squeeze shut from within the pool of black I have him strung up in. "To make a contract with me?"

He stops, stock still. I feel my breath hitch as his fist clenches and my rotten, misshapen heart clenches with it. Let me. Trust me. Give yourself to me. That is all I want.

It is all I will ever want.

"I am..." He begins, double-taking when his voice splits from within his subconscious. "Not so noble that I would stake my life for someone else." He calls, "nor am I so forgiving that I would sit by and allow someone to trample me."

I feel his soul shuffling closer, his contract mark digging into his iris from beneath a closed eye.

"I am a selfish and self-righteous being!" He yells from within himself, startling me into stepping closer. "That's why... I... to clear my own name, I used your power! Not for anybody else!"

Yes, master. Come back to me.

"But for myself!" He calls and I know I have done it, I push and push and push. Gently, though for now I  _know_  he can break. "Sebastian!" He calls, in reality.

His voice is so raw and real that it startles me. My eyes widen and my pupils dilate. I can feel every shift in the room as he pushes past my barriers.

"You bastard!" He calls and I have never been so glad, "let me go this instant. That's an order."

I feel the tug in my left hand and I slowly drop him onto the mattress, tendrils releasing him one by one and retracting back into that greedy, lustful part of my being.

Coughs bound around the room and I remember that he is ill. "Dammit! I've never had such a terrible wake-up call. This is abhorrent behaviour towards your master, Sebastian." He chastises and glares up at me from the bed.

Even though he looks so tiny and vulnerable sitting there, I know he is not scared.

"Yes." I all but groan, reigning in the last of my true form. "Do excuse me, you were tossing and turning so badly," I explain and bow down beside his bed. Yes,  _this_ feels natural. This is where I should be. "Good morning, my Lord."

I smirk up at him and he smirks back.

For we both know he will always choose me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Ladybird, I'm tired of this hell,  
> Throw a coin into the wishing well,  
> Draw the water as the flames, they swell,  
> I'll be waiting."
> 
> A/N: I've wanted to 'justify' the whole Sebastian almost killing Ciel in Germany thing for ages and this is how I decided to go about it. I stayed as true to the manga as possible because I'm a perfectionist like that but I wanted to suggest that while the demon within Sebastian was obligated to terminate the contract, his human guise was a bit more hesitant. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :)


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